Deepest Secret
by drippingredrose13
Summary: Two Slytherins, both cold as ice have a plan to change the wizarding world forever. But emotions do tend to screw up even the best laid plans. One of those crappy summary, good story deals, I promise! Don't own harry potter... yet.
1. Chapter 1

It was my best friend's deepest secret and it would be a hard one to keep. When he told me, I was shocked, although I didn't show it. We were best friends for a reason, although I didn't think either of us ever called it that. I secretly wanted it to be more, much more than just friends, but we had agreed already to take things VERY slow. We were more alike then I was to my sister. I would find out that I was adopted much later.

He had told me something that I had long suspected, but to hear him say it out loud made it all the more shocking for me. "I am the heir of Slytherin." He had said. I wanted to smile and run to hug him. But I wasn't that kind of a person, and Tom knew it. So instead I simply smirked and said, "Is that so?"

He laughed a little, "You knew."

"There was never a question in my mind."

He smiled at me. Not one of his falsely charming smiles that all of the teachers and other girls lapped up. A smile that was one part happiness, and two parts cunning. It was a smile that said, "I know all of your tricks, and I'm not afraid to wipe out any obstacle that gets in my way, whether it's you, or anyone else." It made me shudder with anticipation.

"Then I suppose the only question now is whether you'll tell anyone," he said raising an eyebrow. I couldn't help but snort at that.

"After all of the things that we've gotten up to over the years? I'd be surprised if we didn't end up with a life's sentence in Azkaban. Or at least, several years of detention."

"So you won't tell then?" He laughed. "I really expected you to be much more excited about this."

"Oh you have no idea how excited I am…"

"Will you help me then?"

I smirked. "Of course."


	2. Chapter 2

I stomped quickly through the hallways, my head held high and my eyes cold despite the rage that burned through me. A group of first years huddled in a corner discussing the coming trip to Hogsmead. My robes whirled around me as I came to a complete stop.

"Leave. Now." I snarled at them. And they did. Everyone knew not to cross me. Ever since the first week of school. They knew that I was someone to be respected, someone to be feared. I had that very same intimidating aura as Tom. And they could sense it. So they left us both alone. Whenever we walked through the hallways together, the crowds of Griffendors and Slytherins alike seemed to melt away from us, cowering in fear.

This year, so much had changed. Tom and I had been close friends before, but now, we were practically inseparable. We were together from the moment we woke up, having collapsed of exhaustion in the library the night before. Many might think that Tom is only using me. But I knew that this wasn't true. We had to much in common. He knew that I would never allow myself to become a mere pawn in his quest for power and he knew that I was strong enough to prevent that from happening. So instead of becoming worst enemies, we had become friends.

In the beginning, I was content. It gave me a sense of satisfaction to walk with him, and know that together, we were unstoppable. But now, it was different. It wasn't that he had changed. He had become darker, and more foreboding, true, but that was unsurprising. He had always shunned the company of almost all people, with me as the exception. And I appreciated this. But now, I wanted us to be so much more. I had realized my feelings for him long ago, and they had only grown over the years.

Now, it was like a constant ache in my chest when we were apart, even though that was seldom. My emotions were beginning to get in the way. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't supposed to feel like this.

I paced back and forth in front of the wall. _I need a place to think, I need a place to thi-_ A door appeared in front of me. I whipped my head around, and glanced up and down the corridor. It was deserted. I opened it, and slipped inside.

I barely looked around the room before flopping down into a nearby armchair. I sighed, and ran my hands through my hair.

"Tom, Tom, what am I going to do about you?" I whispered. He was becoming a major problem. He messed with my head whenever I was around him.

I was confronted with a choice. I could somehow overcome my affection for Tom, or I could… dispose of him. The second option brought me up short. I knew his weaknesses, and his strengths. I could potentially do it.

But he trusted me. Otherwise he wouldn't confide all that he did in me. I knew about his quest for immortality, and how he planned to achieve it. Could I really betray that?

Doubt in myself was practically ruining the friendship that we had. He had noticed that I was different lately. When the news of the mudblood's death reached us, he was quite happy. And I was too. But not for any of the reasons that I should have been happy for.

_ He stalked into the common room, and as I looked up from my book, I could tell instinctually that something was up. Maybe it was because his smirk was more pronounced then usual. _

"_Tom." It was a question, but no one could possibly understand it but him. _

"_It worked," he said. "Myrtle Williams is dead."_

_The book dropped out of my hands as I shot out of my seat. _

"_The basilisk?" I asked. He nodded. I smiled as wide as I could. I knew how long he had worked for just this one moment. "This is only the beginning you know." I said._

"_I know." He smiled._

_At that moment I knew that I was the only one who he would ever smile at like that, and I was irrationally happy at that thought. What I did next, I have no excuse for._

_I took two steps towards him and flung my arms around his neck. He was was surprised, definitely. I wasn't the hugging type. Or the any physical contact for that for that alone I might have been able to forgive myself. But neither he nor I, I'm sure, understood what caused me to lift my head and bring my lips to his._


	3. Chapter 3

When I opened my eyes, it was night. I could tell every though there were no windows in site. It was just a feeling that I got whenever the sun went down. Chills would run over my skin, and I felt wide-awake. Night was when I felt most powerful.

I had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement while contemplating what to do about Tom. I never reached a conclusion, of course.

I didn't want to go back to the common room. I knew that he would be there, waiting to mock me, with that condescending smirk. He would ridicule me for _feeling _something. We were supposed to be the emotionless duo, impossible to get close to. To be admired and feared from afar. We were the top students, the most perfect people in the school. We didn't make mistakes.

But I had made a mistake. I had fallen for him, my best friend. That in itself was nothing to be ashamed of, I suppose. But acting on that affection was foolish. I thought that I was in control of my emotions. I was wrong. I was disgusted with myself for kissing him. It was a moment where I completely lost control, and that scared me more than anything.

I couldn't face him now.

Wandering the corridors calmed me. No one was around, so I didn't have to pretend to be that perfectly kind, charming girl that I was not. I was free to be with my own muddled thoughts.

"Where did you go?" The voice came out of the shadows. My eyes glanced down at the floor, and I studied the tiles there. It was a while before I spoke.

"I couldn't face you."

He approached me, his footfalls sharp, like gunshots in the silence. I looked up at him, and stared into his dark eyes. Neither of us would look away. Something passed in them. A fleeting moment of… something unidentifiable.

"Why?" he said, his voice hard and unfeeling. "Why did you do it?"

"I… I don't know." I whispered. I looked away from him, so that he couldn't see the pain in my eyes.

I felt him come closer, until his body was almost touching mine. My pulse sped, and my breathing raced. But I betrayed nothing.

"I care for you," He whispered, "But as a …friend. Nothing more."

My eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around me and held me, held me for a moment in the night.


	4. Chapter 4

I stared at Dumbledore. Transfiguration was always a slow class, but this was more so than usual. The old man always got on my nerves. When he looked at me, I felt like his cold blue eyes could see right through my carefully constructed façade of the perfect student. I knew that was impossible, but I made a point never to underestimate anyone. That's how Tom and I had been able to continue with our… research for so long undetected.

I had transfigured my teacup into a turtle long ago, and was now sitting in class turning the eyebrows of a Griffendor boy in front of me different colors. Tom was across the room, looking equally as bored.

I hadn't spoken to him much that morning. We had met in the common room and gone down to breakfast as usual, but there was an unnatural feeling between us. It was tense, and on my part, angry. There was also something else about it that I couldn't quite identify. We had gone to class as usual, as if there was nothing wrong. No one else noticed.

I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck, and I looked up, straight into Tom's eyes. He subtally inclined his head towards the door, and raised his eyebrow. I nodded sharply, and turned back to harassing the boy.

After class was over, I met Tom outside. He seemed more relaxed then he had this morning, and to me, that was definitely a god sign.

"Walk with me." He said as I approached him. I raised my eyebrow, and he responded with a smirk. I knew that I wasn't going to get any answers out of him until we got wherever we were going.

We strolled down by the lake, walking side by side. It was a breezy afternoon. The lake rippled, and the grass swayed. I sat down a few yards away from the water, and Tom joined me.

"What did you want to say?" I asked.

He stared out at the water. I could see the small waves reflected in his eyes. He did not look like himself. He looked… sad, almost.

"They are going to close Hogwarts." He said finally.

"What?" I gasped, "Why?"

He closed his eyes, and it dawned on me.

"Because of Myrtle?" I asked. He didn't say anything, just nodded. We sat there for a moment in silence. Hogwarts was my home. I had nothing to go back to, and neither did Tom. This, for now, was all that we had.

I knew what this would cost him and me if we had to put off our plan for any longer. We had searched for the Chamber, and waited years to finally open it. But we had done it in the end. We couldn't just throw all of that work away. And even if we did, the professors would assume that the castle was still unsafe. What to do then? We couldn't do anything about the situation. Unless…

"What if we passed it off on someone else?" I said suddenly. Tom jerked his head up and stared at me.

"Framed them as the killer?"

"Why not?" I asked, liking the idea more and more, "We could pass it off on that Griffendor…What's his name? Hagrid, I think." I could feel Tom gazing at me intently, "There is a rumor that he snuck a werewolf cub in and keeps it under his bed. We could say that he killed-" I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine. They were gentle, and warm. I could feel his body press closer to mine, pushing me back into the grass. My heart galloped in my chest. I wanted this so badly.

Just as I had recovered from the shock, he pulled away, his eyes cold again. I couldn't move. I was frozen.

He stood. Looked down at me for a moment.

"Thank you." He whispered. Then turned and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

I slipped out of my bed in the dormitories. I made finally come back here, after the incident in the meadow, and I was more confused than ever. Tom said that he didn't consider me anything more than a friend. So why did he kiss me? My thoughts spun round and round my head until I had felt almost dizzy, and had laid down for a nap. But I had overslept, and was almost running late for Slughorn's party.

Tom and I were both in the "slug club." Professor Slughorn had asked us almost the first week when he realized our potential. Others had seen this as a sort of honor, and for weeks, whispers resonated around the school. But for me, it wasn't an honor. It was simply a way to gain information. Being close to teachers certainly had its benefits. With a flutter of my eyelashes, I had been able to talk Tom and myself out of a tight spot on more than one occasion.

I was running late for the party. I was supposed to bring someone else, as well, but I wasn't planning on asking anyone. Bringing another person was only giving Slughorn an excuse to play matchmaker, and I desperately wanted to avoid that awkward situation.

In short, I reflected as I pulled on my tight green dress, I was not looking forward to the evening.

I examined myself in the mirror. The dress was much too short for my taste, and I hated the lack of sleeves. It made me look so much less dangerous. It made me look like… a girl who could easily be manipulated and taken advantage of. Well, I suppose that was the look I was going for, since Tom and I had a very important question to ask Slughorn this evening.

I pulled on my dark boots, and stalked out into the hallway. This was definitely going to be a very long night.

I arrived at the door of the party. It seemed to be quite a subdued atmosphere, probably because a teacher was in the room. I took a deep breath and let it out. I pushed the door open.

When I walked in, I could practically feel the silence that fell over the room. I didn't know if that was a very good thing or a very bad thing, but I kept my head high. I grabbed a glass of chameigne (typical Slughorn) from the nearest passing tray, and raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor boy who was staring at me. He blushed, and quickly turned away. I smirked and turned away from him as well, only to come face to face with a very blond boy.

I immediately recognized him as one of the boys who always showed up to our meetings. He was the one who _constantly _slipped up and referred to Tom as "my lord" out side of the meetings. Something or the other Malfoy, I think. I had never really talked to him, but he seemed insistent on making conversation now.

"Hello," he smirked as he leaned up against the wall.

"Malfoy." I nodded. I wasn't interested in talking to this lackey. He was unimportant. I had to get to professor Slughorn, and give him the girt that Tom had ordered for the kitchens earlier. I began to walk away, but the irritating boy followed me.

"Reiley…" he began, but I cut him off. I didn't have time to talk to him, and I didn't want to. The party was winding down, and many people were leaving, glancing one last time around the room. All of the Slytherins nodded to Tom and I as the each passed us.

"Malfoy, I have important business I must attend to." I glared at him, and he shrank slightly under my gaze. "I hope that you can find your way back to the common room _by yourself_," I hissed. His eyes widened slightly, but then his normal condescending smirk that every Slytherin seems to have perfected returned.

" Until next time then, my lady." He said. He gentle lifted my hand and kissed it. I was taken aback. I wanted to say something to him, but then he was gone. I didn't really know what to make of that, so I just shrugged it off.

But when I finally reached Slughorn, Tom's expression told me that I should probably think about what had just happened. He was still talking to the Professor, but he was gazing at me, from over his shoulder. I was shocked at the expression n his face.

His calm, cold demeanor had melted, and he looked enraged. This wasn't one of those slight emotions that usually flickered across his face when his composure slipped. This was not disguised in the slightest. It was fury, hurt, and something else that I had never ever seen before. I met his gaze coolly and raised one of my eyebrows. Why was he so angry? I had only seen him like this once before, and that was a _very_ long time ago.

I could see him say something quick and sharp to Slughorn. He glanced over his shoulder directly at me. I smiled winningly at him, and the professor smiled as well, before turning back to Tom. I couldn't quite hear what he said, I was still to far away, but it seemed to make Tom even more agitated. He gave Slughorn a curt nod before striding towards me.

When he reached me, he gave me a cold glare before grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the room, and into the darkened corridor.

"What the hell were you thinking talking to that…boy?" he hissed at me. I glared right back up at him.

"It wasn't my fault, he wouldn't leave me alone."

"You didn't-"

"I know I didn't give Slughorn the present! Good lord Tom, I'm not a toddler that needs to be looked after! I know exactly what I did and didn't do!" I whispered angrily at him. We were getting closer and closer, both glaring angrily into the other's eyes.

"He prevented you for doing the _one thing_ that I asked you to?"

"You don't get to order me around Tom! If you recall, it was I who came up with this plan!"

"Of course I remember, but that doesn't mean-"  
>"You can't manipulate me like one of your little Deatheaters Tom." I was so angry now that I barely even knew what I was saying. How dare he accuse me of slacking off?<p>

He was about to respond when I whispered, "Why do you even care?"

Even in the dark, I could see the pained expression, and something else again pass on his face, but that didn't stop me.

"Are you jealous, Tom?" I whispered in his ear. I felt his shudder as my breath touched him. "Does it bother you, to see me talking to Malfoy? Did you think that, possibly maybe one day, I would choose him? Did you think-" But I was cut off as he grabbed my hands and practically slammed me into the wall. I let out a gasp, as the air came whooshing out of me, leaving me breathless.

"You are mine," he practically growled the words into my ear before his lips crashed into mine. And only a moment later, I was kissing him back. He released my hands, and I wound them through his hair, pulling him tighter to me. Our tongues danced together, exploring every corner of the other's mouth. It was something entirely different then the way that I had kissed him in the common room, or in the meadow. It was full of passion, and lust. I knew that he tasted a faint trace of alcohol on my tongue. When he finally pulled away, all to soon, we were both left panting, and gasping for air. And he was smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi everybody- sorry it's taking me so long to update. I had a swim meet, and the writer's block. Augh. So thanks to DamonSalvatorelover for this chapter _

The next morning, I woke from my sleep feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. I was quite sure why, but it was a nice change. Maybe I should spend more time sleeping in my own bed, then the chairs in the library. There were no classes today, so I would have quite a while to do as I liked.

Suddenly, I remembered that there was a trip to Hogsmeade village today. I swung my legs over the side the bed, and stalked to the window. There was a soft blanket of snow on the ground, crystalline and beautiful.

As I stepped out of the carriages, the wind slipped through my hair, causing shivers to run down my spine. It was quite cold. I had agreed to meet Tom and the others at the Hog's Head inn, which was a small bar, quite a ways away from the bustling Three Broomsticks. It was a perfect place to hold our meetings off of school grounds. For the right price, you could guarantee that you would not be overheard.

Until then, however, I was free to wander the village. I didn't have much taste for the shops and stores on the main street, so I began the long walk up the hill towards what would later become known as the Shrieking Shack.

It was one of my favorite places, that old shack. I liked to think that it, like me, was simply biding it's time before it's infamouy began. I opened the creaking old door. This had been my hide out for years. I used it for practicing spells, and such. Already, there where whispers in the village that it was haunted by ghosts.

I was planning to continue my practice of various hexes and curses, but I was interrupted as someone behind me shouted, "Expelliarmous!" caught off-guard, my wand flew out of my hand.

"I knew that I would find you here, my lady," came a voice from the shadows.

I jerked my head up with out turning around. "Malfoy."

"He thinks that he controls you, you know," he said, advancing towards me.

"Give me back my wand," I snarled, taking a step towards him.

He smirked, twirling it between his fingers. The he pocketed it. "You won't be needing it." His smile widened, "Tell you what. I'll give you your wand back if you, in return, give me something that I want."

I gasped, realizing what he meant. "No."

Malfoy grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him. His voice was low and husky as he whispered in my ear. "Just because Riddle thinks that you're his… property," he practically spat the last word, "doesn't mean that you can't make your own choices."

His mouth was right next to my ear, and I could feel his breath on my neck. I leaned away from him as far as I could, but he held me trapped in his arms. I was powerless. Without my wand, there was nothing to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted to me. Nothing except my own meager resistance. He had the advantage.

I hated this feeling of helplessness. I was powerful, someone to be feared and respected, especially by our followers, not taken advantage of because I was a woman.

As his fingers reached for the first button on my shirt, the door suddenly flew open. It was Tom.

"You," He snarled at Malfoy, who immediately jumped away from me. Tom hissed a jinx under his breath that left Malfoy ridged and petrified. I took the opportunity to retrieve my wand from his pocket. I had barely gotten out of the way when Tom sent Malfoy a withering look and hissed, "Crucio."

He flailed on the floor as wave after wave of pain assailed him. I did nothing, just stood there and watched with a contemptuous look on my face. When Tom was done, he looked up at me and gestured towards the door. "Outside. Now," He growled, apparently unable to articulate in full sentences. For some reason this made me mad. Hadn't I been ordered around and practically taken advantage of enough for one day? I stomped out the door preparing to give him a piece of my mind.

When he finally came out of the room, closing the door behind him, I was so angry that my vision flashed red. I had my wand back, and if Tom said one thing out of line, I would hex him. But I wasn't preparing for the vulnerable look on his face.

"Are you… Did Malfoy…" He sputtered. I still wasn't quite used to this new Tom who had trouble completeing sentences.

"I'm fine." I said, my voice flat. He seemed surprised at my tone of voice, but the look flitted over on his face and was gone. He became impassive again.

"I suppose that I should go down for the meeting then," He said. For a second I was taken aback.

"You mean we," I corrected.

"No, I mean I," He said, turning away from me, "You are too easily taken advantage of. You are a risk to our plans. You will not come." I was astonished, but I overcame that emotion quickly, and rage replaced it, consumed it.

"How _dare_ you," I shrieked. My wand was out, and pointed directly at his back. "You filthy halfblo-" I stopped when he turned back around, took two steps towards me and covered my mouth with his hand. That exposed look was in his eyes again. He looked almost tender.

"I can't bare to let you be hurt again," he whispered. He placed a kiss on the top of my head before striding away towards the village, leaving me, once again, staring after him, confused.


	7. Chapter 7

"I don't want you to get hurt," those words echoed in my mind as I rode back in the carriage alone. There was some solace in the, I suppose. It proved that he did care for me, to some extent. I was fed up with these stupid games that Tom was playing. I wanted to know what he thought of me. I wanted to hear his excuses for pushing me away from his own lips. It was so unfair. We had been friends for the longest time, and now, my rash actions had destroyed that.

I was so frustrated. I knew that Tom rarely expressed emotion when he felt anything. I understood him like no one else. But I was completely puzzled by this new side of him. What bothered me most was the fact that he had pushed me away. I didn't know why.

When I arrived back at the castle, I knew what I had to do. I began to prepare for the next day. I doubted that anyone would be able to piece the goal of my plan together, until it was fully carried out. Even Tom wouldn't guess what I was about to do next.

The next week, we had classes. Normally, I would be slightly annoyed by this, but today, I was glad. It was essential to my plan.

First was Potions in the dungeons with the Gryffindor. I excelled in Potions, so it was really no wonder that I was Slughorns favorite student it this class. I should be able to brew whatever I wanted without him interrupting me.

I had… suggested to Slughorn that some competition among the student might give some of the poorer ones incentive to do better in his class. He had agreed to create some form of contest, in which the winner would receive a vial of veritaserum. I had, of course, preformed a memory charm on him, so that he wouldn't remember that I had, in fact been the one to insinuate all of this.

So as I strode into class, I knew exactly what to expect. There was no other way to procure veritaserum, as it is a closely guarded potion.

"Good morning class!" Slughorn exclaimed, striding into the dungeon. "Today we will be brewing a very advanced potion, known as the Draught of Living Death. Can anyone tell me how this potion affects the drinker?" Tom raised his hand.

"It sends the into a sleep so deep that the drinker appears to be dead, sir." He said in 'I'm such a good, respectful student' tone of voice. I rolled my eyes.

"That is correct!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Now, the persons who succeeds in this monumental task shall be given a choice of one of these three marvelous prizes! Now, who can identify the contents of these cauldrons for me?" No one volunteered. "Tom, how about you?"

There were two cauldrons of different sizes in the front of the room. He approached the first. "This, I believe sir, is what is commonly known as the polyjuice potion, used to disguise oneself. It lasts much longer then a dislousion charm, and, if brewed correctly can almost completely change the drinker into another person, more so than any transfiguration can."

"Very good Tom! Ten points to Slytherin! And in the other cauldron?"

He approached it cautiously, bent over the bright pink liquid, and sniffed in delicately. He almost instantly recoiled from the pot. "A love potion." He said with distain. Slughorn waved him to continue. "It…smells like the things that most attract the person. However, it is only… temporary." His voice got quite on the last word. I felt a surge of pity sweep through me, and I knew that he would hate it. His father… I knew that he was planning on killing him for leaving his mother. He had a… history, shall we say, with love potions.

"And…?" Slughorn prompted.

"And what…sir?" Tom snapped his calm demeanor slipping for one of those brief instants.

"What do you smell, Tom?"

He looked as though he was going to refuse to answer the question for a moment, but then he said, softly, "I smell…grass, and lake water. Champaign, and something I can't quite describe…it's the scent of…darkness," he finished quietly. His eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I knew that we were both remembering those brief moments in the meadow, and in the dark corridor.

"Very good!" exclaimed Slughorn, "Take another ten points!"

Tom hurried back to his seat before Slughorn could question him any further, I suppose. But I saw a meaningful look pass between them.

"The third prize, " said Slughorn, "Is the little beauty in this bottle! Can anyone tell me what it is?' this time, I raised my hand.

"That is veritaserum. It is quite rare, and carefully controlled by the Ministry. It causes the drinker to speak the truth about any question their asked. In short, while under its influence, they are unable to speak, or even imply any form of falsehood. "

"Wonderful! Yet another ten points to Slytherin!" said Slughorn.

"It is also, I continued, "illegal in England." I raised my eyebrow at the professor. He chuckled,

"Yes, yes, you caught me there! But it would be harmless if used in something trivial, say a truth or dare game, wouldn't it?" Slughorn said, throwing a wink at Tom. "Man the best student win!"

The rest of the class passed by in a blur of cutting, stirring, and crushing various ingredients to make the potion. When we were all finally finished, Slughorn went around inspecting each of our potions, occasionally nodding, and "hmm"ing. But he came to a complete stop when he reached my cauldron.

"I say! Everyone, look here, Ms. Johnson's done it!" quite a few spectators gathered around my cauldron, oohing and ahhing at the perfect shade of lavender.

"What'll it be then?" Slughorn asked, "Perhaps the love potion?" I seriously tempted to hex him in that moment. Instead, I put on my most winning smile and said, "No thank you professor. I would prefer the veritaserum."

He seemed rather pleased with my choice, and handed it over to me with a hearty, "Here you are!"

"In second place we have…Mr. Riddle! Come my boy, take your pick! What'll it be, eh?" Unfortunately, before Tom had the chance to open his mouth, the bells rang, signaling the end of class.

"Too bad, too bad. Oh well, you shall have your chance next time my boy! Come along now, pack up, don't want to be late for the next class!" While stools were being pushed back and scraping against the floor, textbooks being shoved into bags, no one noticed me take out a small flask, and fill it to the brim with polyjuice potion from the first cauldron.

The next night, I crept into the girls' bathroom and drank down the whole vial glass of the stuff. Malfoy had left some of his hair on my robes when he cornered me in the Shrieking Shack, and now, it was payback time.

I had lain in wait for him, by the Great Hall, the knocked him out and petrified him with a simple hex. Then unceremoniously dumped his body into a stuffy broom cupboard.

Now, as I climbed up to the boys' dormitories, I reflected on how complicated this plan had seemed when I was first plotting it out, and how simple the execution of it really was. It had been too easy and I was sure that something was going to go wrong. But as I entered the room that most of the boys in my year shared, Tom was there, sitting on his bed reading, exactly according to plan.

He always had a glass of water next to his bed, for some strange reason. I knew this from my brief visits to his room during Christmas. It was all too easy to slip the veritaserum into his drink, and whisper a drying spell. It took only two seconds for it to take effect, and Tom lifted the glass, downing the veritaserum.

"So, Tom…" I was still unused to hearing Malfoy's voiceinstead of my own, but pushed ahead anyways, "I heard that Reiley is no longer one of us."

Even in the poor light I could see his mouth form a hard, straight line, and at first, I thought that he wasn't going to answer. But then…

"That is true."

"Why? Why did you turn her away? Were you afraid that someone… that I might hurt her?" I waited eagerly for his response.

"No. I wasn't afraid of you. She can handle herself. I…she cant be… she is a hazard to us." Even under the influence of veritaserum, Tom was still as cryptic as ever. I had to make my questions more direct. I had no idea how long this dose would last.

"Do you care for her?"

He looked pained, as though her were struggling against something inside of himself. Finally, he whispered, "I care for her. Too much. That's why I had to push her away. If someone discovered what we were planning to do… they might try to use her against me. And I would be forced to kill her." He closed his eyes. "I could never do that. She's too… important to me. I think about her to often. If I lost her…" He began to shake his head. Then more rapidly. I could see his eyes coming back into focus, then drifting back out again. "I think…I think i…"

His eyes were completely focused now, and he seemed to be waking up from a dream as he sat back up. I realized with horror, that he would remember everything that he had just told Malfoy…me.

Quickly, I whipped out my wand, and murmured, "obliviate." His eyes became unfocused again, and he collapsed back onto the bed. Passed out.

As I turned to go, I hesitated. "I care for you too. More than you will ever know." I whispered. I reached out and gently stroked the smooth, white skin on his face. Then I was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

It had been about a week since the happenings in Tom's room. I hadn't forgotten anything that he had said. It made me ridiculously happy. Unfortunately, he didn't remember anything that he had said, because of my memory charm.

I went down to the common room as usual, to find Tom waiting there for me.

"Breakfast?"

"Sure." We walked down to the great hall, side by side.

The first class was Potions again. We strolled into the dungeon. I had forgotten that Tom had to choose his potion today. He would probably pick the polyjuice potion, since I had taken the veritaserum. And used it all on him, but he didn't need to know that.

As we all got settled down, Slughorn boomed, "Alright Tom! As we were all, sadly, interrupted last class the bell, you didn't get a chance to choose your potion! Choose wisely my boy!" He leaned forward expectantly.

He'll pick the polyjuice potion for sure.

"I'll take…the love potion, sir." He said quietly.

I'm sure that at that moment, I looked completely ridiculous. My mouth had fallen open. I was astounded. Why on earth had he picked it? He _hated_ love potions. Because of his mother.

But he had picked it over the polyjucie potion. I didn't understand why! With the polyjucie potion, the possibilities were endless. Why hadn't he picked that?

The rest of the class, again, passed by in a blur. I barely remembered what we did, or what we learned. And at the end of the day, that was still all I could think about.

I walked down to dinner, so lost in a haze of thought that I didn't even realize that Tom was calling my name until he was right beside me, shaking my shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "you seem rather pale." I honestly wasn't paying any attention to the words that he was saying. I was to focused on his hand on my shoulder, and the warmth of his skin that I could feel, even through my shirt.

"You look rather…" He trailed off. I quickly looked away from him, as I realized my skin was flushed.

"It's nothing," I whispered.

After dinner, we walked up to the dormitories together. I collapsed in one of the armchairs closest to the fire. I guess I _was_ feeling a little off. But I couldn't tell if Tom was the cause of this or not. I could barely begin to untangle my web on emotions anymore.

When he came back into the common room, he was holding something in a goblet. "It's a fever potion." He said. He handed it to me, and sat down. I reached for the goblet, and drank the whole thing down in a few gulps.

But wait. Suddenly, I wasn't tired anymore. Everything looked distorted, slightly blurry, but more beautiful than ever before. I looked around at Tom, and gasped. He was glorious. His skin glowed milky pale in the light of the fire.

Suddenly I was overcome by an emotion so fierce that I had to give into it. My thought were completely distorted. All I could think of was how much I _wanted_ him right now.

I scrambled off of the chair that I saw sitting in, and practically crawled onto his lap. "Tom," I sighed. I pulled him close to me, my fingers already fidgeting with the buttons on his short, desperately undoing them one by one. He pulled my close and I attacked his lips with a fiery passion. I lost myself in his kisses.

When I heard the entrance to the common room open, I didn't even look up. But I heard the sharp gasp that echoed around the room. Tom moved his head away from me to speak with the person. I felt intoxicated by his closeness. I was drunk with happiness. I could no longer control myself. I concentrated on getting the rest of his shirt off. I wasn't really listening to the conversation that was taking place, but I still heard it, nonetheless.

"Leave, Malfoy. There will be no meeting tonight. As you can see, I'm rather…preoccupied at the moment."

I managed to get his shirt off. I pulled his head back to me, tangling my hands in his hair.

"But you said that she was only a… friend." Tom only smirked in reply.

"What the devil is going on…Oh my." Slughorn had entered the room. Probably wanting to know why no one was moving from the portrait hole. He sent Tom a brief smile before booming to the other students, "Let's all go down to my office and have a little party, shall we? I'm sure the headmaster wont' mind." He threw a wink over his shoulder as he exited again, taking the rest of the Slytherins with him. Leaving Tom and I, together, alone for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, when the sunlight streamed through the windows, I opened my eyes. At first I was confused. I had no idea where I was. It wasn't the library, and it wasn't my dormitory. The room swam all around in my vision, making me dizzy with exaggerated colors, swirling and spinning until I thought that I was going to vomit.

I sat up slowly, trying to control my nausea. I felt like I had drunk an entire bottle of firewhiskey the night before. I felt absolutely awful. I had a sort of hollowness in my bones, which I couldn't even begin to explain. My head pounded.

Slowly, I realized that I was in the common room. Why hadn't I gone to bed? I struggled to recall what had happened…

I looked down, on the couch next to me, and let out a gasp. Tom was lying next to me, his arm around my waist. We were both so closely intertwined tat at first, it didn't even register that he was half naked.

I suddenly was overcome with an onslaught of images and memories from the night before. How I had practically thrown myself at him, and how he hadn't pushed me away. How he had given me the fever potion to drink.

"Tom, you bastard." It was so blindingly obvious to me now. He had requested the love potion in class. But would he ever go so far as to, essentially, drug me?

I pulled out my wand, from out of my robe pocket (I obviously hadn't bothered to change before falling asleep), and was seriously thinking about hexing Tom, but then I looked down at him, still fast asleep, holding me.

It was then when I realized the most dangerous thing of all. I couldn't hurt him, and I would do almost anything he asked me to, simply because it was he that asked me. I knew that if I needed to, I would die for him. I had wanted to be the one immune to him, refusing to be intimidated or under his control. But somehow, sometime, along that line, I had…fallen in love with him. And was more under his control than anyone else. The real question was how long I could keep that fact from him. I didn't even bother to ask myself if he loved me back. He was completely emotionless. Tom didn't _have_ feelings at all, much less feelings for me.

But if he didn't have feelings for me, then why had me given me the love potion? It was all so confusing, even more so because it was _Tom_, whom I had known for years, and had never ever acted like that.

Asleep, he looked so much more relaxed and carefree then he seemed to be when he was awake. His forehead was free of creases, and he was almost smiling. I couldn't help but blush at the fact that he was still holding me, after we had fallen asleep together. Being in his arms made me feel safe, protected. It felt… _right_.

I decided to wrestle with my feelings later. Laying back down, I pushed myself closer to Tom, even though that was practically impossible, as our bodies were already entangle. As sleep came to claim me again, my mind became distorted and slow. I was barely conscious when I thought I felt lips brush my ear, and a whisper of, "you stayed with me." But I was to far gone to comprehend, or respond.


	10. Chapter 10

When I finally did wake up, for good this time, Tom's face was inches away from mine. His eyes were open. He was awake.

For a half a second, I was seriously tempted to feign sleep for a few minutes longer, just to put off the embarrassment of what I knew was coming. But he spoke, "Good morning." And I knew that hope was lost.

I looked away from him. I knew that I had completely humiliated myself last night, even if I was under the influence of a love potion. The worst thing was that I couldn't even bring myself to be mad at Tom. I didn't understand why he did it, but I knew that much of it was not, in fact, the potion's influence at all. So I turned away, ashamed of my feelings for him. I was certain that he knew now.

He tightened his arms around me, pulling me closer to him.

"Tom, I…I want to… to apologize for… everything that happened last night." I looked away again, "I don't really know what-"

"Shh." He placed a finger to my lips. "I want to apologize for…what I did as well. That was completely out of line." He pulled away from me, and started to rise, reaching for his shirt as he did so.

"No," I whispered.

"What?" he turned back towards me. I figured since I had already disgraced myself as much as possible already, there was no more that I could do. I grabbed him, and pulled him back to me.

"Don't leave me," I whispered. He turned back towards me slowly.

"Don't you understand what I've done?" He sounded vulnerable and afraid, "I slipped a love potion into your drink. That was despicable." This time, it was his turn to look away.

I reached my hand up and gently stroked his face. "Tom, I could never hate you, no matter what you do to others or to me. I will always… always love you." I the last few words were barely audible as the slipped from my tongue.

I never, ever in a million life times would have expected what Tom did next. He pulled my face to his, and kissed me so passionately that I felt as if I were drowning. My heart burned with a fire that consumed everything around me, except the feeling of his mouth on mine, and his body pressing me down deeper into the couch. I wanted him to hold me forever, kiss me and stay with me, like this for all eternity. But it only lasted a few slender moments before he pulled away.

"I care for you. I truly do." He looked straight into my eyes. "But I…we cant do this."

"Why not?" I breathed

"If someone were to somehow discover how much you mean to me, it would all be over. Being with me puts you in danger. I can't let anything happen to you." He reached out, brushing my hair away from my face. "I promised you that I would not let you be hurt, by me or anyone else, ever again."

"I don't care."

"What?"

"I don't care about the danger anymore. For years now, Tom, all I've wanted is you. I have waited long enough. I chose you."

He pulled me closer to him. In his arms, I felt like nothing was wrong in the world. Everything fell into place. It was all so _right. _I felt like I was safe.

How wrong I was.


	11. Chapter 11

No one found out about us in the next few months. We met all over the school, in secret. We met in the dark halls, on nights that he was on prefect duty. On the cobblestones in the courtyard, we whispered plans and secrets to each other, protected by the black cloak of night.

It was one of the happiest times of my life. We went to school and walked together still in the mornings of course, but there was always a distance that we kept permanently between us. Neither of us ever made any attempt to bridge it. In fact, we pretended as though nothing had ever changed since that night in the common room.

Most everyone had heard about the incident, at least, all the Slytherins had. We were followed by strange looks and whispers wherever we went. It got to be so irritating to my ears, that I hexed one of the fourth years that actually had the nerve to accuse me of being pregnant. She was the person who exemplified what happened to people who crossed me. To be brief, they sent her to the hospital wing in a matchbox. The whispers stopped after that.

No one discovered us. The threat of blackmail became the furthest thing from our minds. I lost myself in his kisses, his passion, his intensity. He had changed, in these brief weeks, becoming more open with me, less guarded and emotionless. I loved it.

Little did we know it would all come crashing down soon. Very soon.

It came to the time where we finally decided to do it. I was ready, prepared for any of the consequences. I had chosen my locket for the first one. We had already agreed that I would go first. I had discovered the book that told us how to achieve it, and I had pressured him until he finally agreed.

I had chosen my locket. It was quite old and heavy, and probably valuable, but I never wore it. There was a very slim chance that it would be actually associated with me. It seemed like the best option. It was symbolic, too. The "S" engraved on the front was for the Selwyn family, one of the oldest and most powerful pureblood families. I was related to them; indeed, there were few pureblood families to which I was not related. It stood for the perfect world that Tom and I sought to create.

It was the night of Halloween when we went down to the chamber of secrets. Everyone being to occupied with the feast, and the magnificent treats offered there, no one paid any attention to the two fifth years stealing away from the Great Hall.

We made it into the chamber of secrets without encountering any teachers along the way. As soon as we entered, I could here the hissing that was normally quite faint, almost like some twisted form of background music, instantly increase. Tom hissed back, and the great snake, the basilisk, slithered into the main room. It gave a sound that seemed almost like a sigh, but sharper, and uncoiled its body from around itself. In the middle of its coils was a limp, quivering form. Alive.

"Good." I muttered to myself. At the sound of my voice, the being turned in my direction.

"H-hello? C-can anyone hear me?" they stuttered. I didn't respond. I did not know their voice, but it would matter little. I was certain that it was some mudblood. All of the sudden I did remember. It was the Gryffindor boy who had stared at me during Slughorn's party, whose eyebrows I had constantly changed in Transfiguration. Nevertheless, I raised my wand.

"Avada kadavera." A bright green jet of light flew from my wand, directly towards the boy, hitting him squarely in the chest. His head slumped forward, and I knew that he was dead.

Almost immediately, I felt…_something_, stirring deep inside of me. It felt strange, like a small flame at first. A sharp burning. Then it grew and grew, until it was much bigger. I gasped as the pain threatened to consume my entire being. I could hear Tom calling to me somewhere, far above me. I was sinking into a deep pit, and was unable to crawl out. It was so complete, so intense. It threatened to consume my soul. I found Tom's arm, and my eyes focused for a brief moment.

"The locket," I gasped. I barely time to see him nod in affirmation, his lips forming some words that I could not quite hear, before the darkness dragged me down, and I knew no more.


	12. Chapter 12

I opened my eyes. Something was different. I felt, lighter, like something was missing that shouldn't be gone. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so I decided to come back to the empty sensation later.

I wasn't in the hospital wing, or any place I had ever been before. Everything was white. Suddenly, in a tidal wave of memory, I recalled everything that happened down in the chamber of secrets. The basilisk, the boy. How I had killed him. And Tom. His face, looming above me, feature contorted in concern as I fell backwards, into the blackness.

My vision wavered, between this mysterious place, and the familiar vision of the chamber. I could see my body, lying below me. I tried to focus on that one, but I couldn't see much more than a hazy image, distorted by the fog that clouded my vision.

I could see my locket in Tom's hands, pulsing slightly, and emitting a faint glow as he held his wand over it, rapidly murmuring incantations. I fought to go back to him, to drag myself through whatever held me back. I was successful. Sort of. I could see him more clearly, and hear though there was a little buzzing, like static on a muggle radio.

With a last flourish of his wand, Tom finished what I guessed to be the protection of my horcrux. He gently lifted my head from its resting place on the ground and hung the locket around my neck. Lifting up the neck of my robes he tucked it under them, his hands brushing my collarbone, and lingering by my neck. I wanted to scream; I couldn't feel anything. But I couldn't seem to find my voice, or feel where my mouth was. I had no control over my body. So instead, I just watched as he gathered me into his arms, and hurried to the hospital wing.

I tried to go after him, but I couldn't feel my feet. I didn't feel like me. What on earth was going on? Am I … dead?

**Hi guys, sorry for the short chapter, I have final to study for… blegh. Would reaaaaaaaaaally appreciate more comments from all of you who are reading the story, but saying nothing! I don't bite (usually) ;) R&R!**


	13. Chapter 13

I faded away. There was no other way to describe it. I could not form thoughts any longer, and I felt as if what was left of my conciseness dissolved in a bright cloud of white. For a while, I knew no more.

I slowly regained conciseness, slowly pulling away from that thick white fog. And I could feel myself again, I slowly opened my eyes. I was back in my body. I was no longer hovering above myself, looking down like an angel from above. My body felt heavy, like I had just swam through a raging river in a storm. I was exhausted. But I was back.

I surveyed the hospital room around me. I knew that Tom had brought me here after I passed out in the Chamber. I wonder what lies he had told the teachers. I would have to get the official story from him before answering any of their questions, although I suppose I could just fake post-traumatic stress or amnesia.

I preformed a quick mental check of my body. Nothing seemed to be broken or deformed or otherwise changed by my out of body experience, to which I was much relieved. I stretched my legs out, and reached my arms above my head. All in working order. But I didn't appear to be wearing anything other than my undergarments. I didn't really care; I wasn't self-conscience about my body. But, I reflected, it would be quite awkward if one of the professors came in.

I spotted my robes in the corner. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, groaning at the stiffness. I sat up and was just about to rise when a voice startled me.

"You're awake."

I immediately swung my head around. Tom was sitting there, in a chair next to my bed. He appeared to have just woken up. I didn't see how I could have possibly missed him in the first place. His eyes wandered down my body, and I blushed, pulling the sheets up around me.

"You stayed," I whispered. He looked stricken.

"How could I not? I thought for sure that the pain had killed you." He put his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair. There was a moment of silence before either of us spoke again.

"…Did it work?" I eventually ventured to ask. At this he looked, and a slight smirk passed over his face.

"Yes. It went exactly as planned. I put…_it_ in the locket. I threw every charm and protection that I could possibly think of at it, including the ones that we discussed." I smiled at him, and my hand went to my throat. My fingers only closed on empty air.

"Where is it?" I gasped, suddenly paniced. I _could not _afford to just leave a _piece of my soul_ lying around somewhere. Tom saw the desperation in my eyes.

"Right over there, with the rest of your clothes." He pointed to the heap of fabric, lying on the table to my left.

"And they let _you_ stay here? Knowing that I'm…indecent?" I laughed a little. He smirked in return.

"They do not know that I'm here."

"Of course," I muttered, "Do you think that you could hand me my things?" His smirk widened.

"No I don't think I will," he said, reclining in his chair.

I gave him a stern look. "Tom, please."

"No, get them yourself."

"Pervert," I muttered. I rose from the bed, the covers falling away. Tom stared at me hungrily. It made me slightly uncomfortable, and I flushed even more, the color spreading down to my neck. I turned my back on him, and reached for my clothes. Rifling through them, I quickly found my locket and quickly yanked it over my head. I continued to search through my things, looking for my wand.

I felt Tom's hands slip around my waist, pulling me close to his body. I could feel him through his robes, and the thought made me go even redder. My hands shook slightly from his close proximity. _Where was my bloody wand?_

He turned me around, pulling my face to his. I was lost again, but this time it felt wonderful, not like the fading before, it was much warmer. It made my head go fuzzy. We fell backwards, and in those moments, I cared about nothing except Tom. All of our plans of horcruxes and the basilisk flew away from my mind. Our hands explored each other's bodies, our tongues tangled together in our mouths. It was _breathtaking_.

But it was only a moment. As I pulled him into my body, the curtains suddenly flew back from my bed, revealing the rather inappropriate way that Tom and I were intertwined. From lying on top of me, he gave me one last quick kiss, and we both turned our heads up to see Professor Dumbledore staring at us with a half amused, half angry expression on his face.


	14. Chapter 14

I stood in Professor Dumbledore's office, blushing and embarrassed. Tom somehow had managed to maintain his usual calm, cool demeanor and was staring at Dumbledore, unashamed. There was a thinly veiled power struggle going on here. As we stood, Tom slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

I had regained my clothes after the…incident, and put them on before following Dumbledore to his office. He hadn't said a word since we had arrived here, instead choosing to recline in his chair behind his desk, studying us through his half-moon spectacles.

"You have made a serious transgression in the rules of Hogwarts." He studied each of us severely. "It is not in my power to expel you, but for now I shall let you off with a warning. You may go."

We both to leave, and as I reached the doorway Dumbledore's voice again called to me.

"You know that the particular kind of venom you claimed to be experimenting with in your free time is very rare, and difficult to obtain. Particularly by fifth year students." I felt a chill run up my spine.

"You may go."

We walked slowly and nonchalantly out of the door, and once they had shut behind me, I turned to Tom.

"What did you tell them?" I asked, my voice soft.

"There was an unfortunate accident down in the potions classroom during the night."

"Isn't there a sufficient lack of evidence? Everyone will see through that immediately."

He smirked. "Not true. I enjoyed myself a little to much, fabricating the elements of the accident down there."

I laughed. Typical Tom. He would destroy teacher's possessions, just so that he could have an alibi. Then all at once, my mood was somber.

"Dumbledore knows, Tom" I whispered, "He knows something. He's not buying our story." My hand went to my chest where the locket was concealed beneath my robes.

"Stupid old man," he murmured, "always meddling. Stick his nose where it doesn't belong. For instance, if he hadn't so rudely intruded upon us…" he trailed off thoughtfully, his hand reaching down to linger on my face. My stomach twisted pleasantly at his touch. He brushed a stray hair out of my face.

I sighed. "Yet we still have so much work to do."

"I know."

"But it will all be worthwhile in the end."

He pulled to me to him, grasping my hips, drawing us as close as we could be. His lips grazed my neck, and as I closed my eyes, I heard him whisper, his hot breath lingering on my neck, "We will create a perfect world. A pure world, full of only those worthy. Wizards will hold dominion over all. No one would have to hide. And I shall reign over this new world, with you as my queen," he finished, his voice sinking into barely more than a sigh. I slowly opened my eyes.

I lay one hand gently on his chest. "No longer will we be hidden away because of the magic that makes us special. It will make us invincible. Together, Tom, we are unstoppable." My voice hung in the cool air of the night, a whisper and foreshadowing of dangerous things to come.

**Hi guys, I'm so, so sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've had finals and I was sick. Since all of my excuses are relatively thread bare, ill just try to have another chapter out faster. That being said, please R&R!**


	15. Chapter 15

I was at his mercy. I knew that now, there was nowhere to escape to. He had, somehow, overheard everything. I knew that I had been right to assume that there was more to him than Tom had assumed. But even so, we both had underestimated him.

Minutes after we had left his office we and began to walk to the chamber of secrets. We were so immersed in our thoughts that we didn't take our normal roundabout way. We didn't even check to see if anyone was following us. And indeed, we did have a shadow.

The chamber open, we levitated ourselves down into the depths of the underground hall. Barely inside, a hex had come streaking from directly above us, hitting Tom in the back, knocking him to the floor, unconscious. I spun around to see him standing there, calmly. There was anger in his eyes, thinly concealed by his easy demeanor.

"You are corrupting him." He advanced upon me threateningly, "He had a sliver of doubt before you came. Before you started to destroy whatever few morals that he had left. You led him down the path towards darker magic."

I laughed, high cold and cruel. It was completely empty of any real amusement, mocking and full of contempt. I offered him a specious smile.

"Why must you always believe that there is good in everyone old man?" I sneered, "you know nothing of what we planned. You know nothing!" I practically screamed the last word. I had never been so angry in my life. The rage consumed me, a fire rapidly spreading inside of me, devouring my soul. I drew my wand out from under my robes, pointing it directly at his chest.

He did not move, or even flinch. We remained, standing there, in silence.

"There is still a chance for you to be saved, from yourself. From him." His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "You are still good. Somewhere inside of your heart, there is something that you're still fighting for. Something you want to protect."

I couldn't help but glance over at Tom, lying unconscious on the ground.

In my second of hesitation, Dumbledore drew his wand, faster than I would have thought possible, much to fast for the eye to follow. There was a bang, and a huge flash of light. My wand flew out of my hand and I was thrown back against the wall, slamming into it so that all of the air was knocked from my lungs. I slid to the ground gasping.

I dimly heard a faint groan. "Tom?" I managed to wheeze out. He shifted, rolling over, trying to sit up. I tried to reach him, but Dumbledore blocked my way. He tossed something around my neck, muttering to himself, "All the way forward. Can't risk so few. Three turns would not be enough…"

I could see Tom's fingers grip his wand, and seconds later there was another deafening explosion, only this time, Dumbledore was the one sent flying. He collapsed in a heap in the corner.

I began to make my way towards Tom, but stopped when I looked down to the object now tightened around my neck. A time-turner, already set and beginning to spin.

"NO!" I screamed. My panicked shout caught Tom's attention. He noticed it immediately.

"Reiley!" he ran to my side, desperately trying to pull it over my head. It spun faster and faster, and I could feel a tug behind my belly button, growing larger and more painful by the second, sucking me into the future. Away from him.

"Tom, you have to wipe his memories," I began speaking very quickly. I didn't know how much time Dumbledore had put on the time-turner, but I knew that there was nothing I could do now. "Make sure that he doesn't remember anything about the chamber, or horcruxes, you should be able to do it, we practiced enough-" I was cut off as he urgently pressed his lips to mine in a fiery kiss. I grabbed his hair, pulling him towards me, knowing that this could be the last time I ever would see him. I frantically kissed him, trying to memorize everything. The feeling of his lips on mine, the heat of his body, the closeness, his hands on me, his arms gripping me so tightly.

When we pulled apart, I ripped my locket off from around my neck, shoving it into his hands. "Take it," I whispered.

He looked shaken. He started to protest, but I quickly cut him off with a sharp look. "My heart has always belonged to you. Take it," I cried. He pulled me to him, one last time.

"I love you," he whispered. My eyes fixed on his face, and saw the sincerity and passion in his eyes. As everything around me began to spin and fade, I held onto his face for as long as I could, fixing it forever in my memory. I reached out with one hand to touch him. He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his face, and as I faded, I heard him whisper my name, one last time.

Tom had loved me. But now there was no going back. It had been his deepest secret.

**Don't worry! This isn't the end, I promise! More will come! THIS IS NOT OVER! DON'T YOU DARE STOP READING! Hope you enjoyed it **


	16. Chapter 16

My knees hit the cold, hard ground. I felt as if I had been moving in a constant motion of spinning and falling for thousands of years. My body was tired and ached. But that was nothing compared to the way my heart felt.

I could hear shouts from around me, but I paid no attention to where I was. I simply lay there, hunched over in the snow, crying. I wept until I felt like there was no water left inside my body.

Tom. I didn't know if I would ever even see him again. I didn't know if now he was dead, or if he had found someone else. I was so afraid of what the future would bring. Back, on one of those moonless nights that Tom and I had met, everything felt so certain. I could only see one path for the future, a path of triumph for him and me. But we were always together. We had always been together.

Now, I was sure, everything had changed. I could hear the murmurs subside, and quiet footsteps approaching me. I felt a hand on my back, and someone speaking to me. But I could not understand what they said, so consumed was I by fear and grief. Slowly, as I began to get myself under control, their words became clearer and clearer.

"Miss?" I turned, and immediately my face became stone cold. I jumped to my feet and pulled out my wand.

"_You_." I hissed with so much hatred in every word that I thought my voice could almost have been a sheet of flame renting the air in two, striking out towards this despicable man in front of me. He was older, and more crooked than before I advanced towards him poking him in the chest with my wand. "You did this! Where is he?" I screamed into his face. Dumbledore remained calm and impassive. He almost looked…confused.

One of the teachers started towards him, but he restrained her with only a "No, Minerva."

"What could I have done to you, child? I have never seen you before. I have no memory of your face."

"This!" I ripped the time-turner from around my neck. I clenched it in my fists and staggered towards him. "You sent me here! You…" his words caught up to me. "You…don't remember?" he shook his head.

Well, at least Tom had succeeded in wiping his memories. But it now appeared that Dumbledore no longer remembered me at all. This, I begun to realize, was a good thing. Tom knew that I would most likely make my way to Hogwarts, no matter what time period I was in. it was the closest thing that I had to a home. And now, I would be able to continue with our work, undetected. Even if, I swallowed, Tom wasn't there to help me.

My fists clenched tighter and tighter, and before I knew it, I felt a sharp pain in my hand and heard the crunching of glass. I slowly opened my palm, and trails of sand slipped from my fingers and into the air as the rest of the remains of the now shattered time-turner fell to the floor.

I collapsed to the ground shaking. My only hope of returning gone. A single tear fell from my eye, and I allowed the darkness to take me, once again. I knew that I would see him in my dreams.


	17. Chapter 17

I was with him again. We were lying together, on the couch in the common room. Nothing separated us. We were completely together for the first time. He whispered things to me, dark things, dreams and hopes and possibilities for the new world, for our future together. He kissed me for an eternity, and we were inseparable.

But the darkness began to recede, and I reached for him, but I was growing farther and farther away. I could no longer reach him, hear his velvety, cool voice caressing my ears and lips with his deadly words, I couldn't feel his touch, his fingers lightly skimming over my skin. I could hear myself cry out.

All of the sudden my eyes were open, staring around unfocused. I could feel my body sitting up, but my mind was still reaching for Tom, even though I could feel him being torn farther and farther away from me.

As that last fragments of the dream were ripped from my reach, I could feel tears falling from my eyes. I curled my knees to my chest, quiet sobs racking my body. I could feel someone watching me, but I didn't care. I was to far away from this new time, to far away to care about anything but thoughts of him.

"Poppy, fetch her a calming potion, will you?" I heard Dumbledore's voice call. That was enough to turn me back to the present. I raised my head and looked around. I was lying in the hospital wing. It wasn't any different. Nothing had changed at all, except the people inside of it. Instead of Tom waiting for me, Dumbledore was there, and also a girl who I didn't know. She looked slightly concerned, and slightly wary.

"My wand…" I muttered, my fingers searching the nightstand for it. The girl raised it. I reached for it, but she held it slightly out of my reach. "Give it to me." I growled, shooting her a deadly look. She did so, but hesitantly.

I immediately pointed it at Dumbledore. "Send me back." I hissed.

"I cannot." He stated calmly.

"Why not?"

"There are very strict rules governing the use of time-turners. I am not even sure if the minister will allow me to fix yours."

"You must. You must fix it." I abandoned every shred of caution I still possessed. "Or I'll kill you." I pointed my wand under his chin. The nurse gasped, and made a move as if to retrieve her wand. "NOT A MOVE!" I screamed. The other girl simply watched me with mild curiosity.

"You wont do it." I glanced over at her.

"Look into my eyes, and say that again."

She approached me slowly. "I don't think you will." She smiled slightly. There was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"And why not?" I snapped.

"Because you don't know how to fix a time-turner. And you wont be able to procure one, if you kill the headmaster."

"Headmaster?" I asked, surprised.

"Perhaps, if you release him, Professor Dumbledore would fix your time-turner for you, and send you back to whatever it was you left behind."

My grip slackened on my wand. "Tom," I whispered. My eyes snapped back up to Dumbledore's face. "Would you do that?"

"My dear, you give me little choice," he chuckle.

"Don't call me 'dear'," I snapped, releasing him. I collapsed back into the bed with a soft sigh.

"I will leave you now to get some rest," Dumbledore stated, striding towards the door, "I shall attempt to have your time-tuner fixed, perhaps in the space of two weeks."

"Two weeks," I whispered. I could survive here that long.

"In the meantime," he continued, "Julia here, shall accompany you around the school. I am assuming that you attended here in the past?"

"Yes," I said quietly.

"And what was your house?"  
>"Slytherin," I said proudly, straightening up a little. I observed how his hands twitched as I said this. For the first time, I noticed a large, black ring on his finger. My breathing hitched as I realized what it was. I could <em>feel<em> it. So he had succeeded, too. And I hadn't been there to help him.

"Why… What is that?" I asked, trying to seem nonchalant, but I knew that the slight quaver in my voice betrayed me.

"Dumbledore jerked his head up, and met my steely gaze with his own. "An old family heirloom," he said in a tone that indicated the discussion was over. But I wasn't going to let him get off that easy.

"Why do you have Tom's ring?" I asked in my sweet innocent student voice. He stopped again and stared at me. This time, he looked even more uneasy then he had before. But he said nothing.

"Headmaster?" the girl called Julia inquired. I could tell that she was a little like me already, though I knew she must be very different as well, indicated by the crimson and gold lion embellished on her robes. She took no sides.

"Did you know him?" Dumbledore inquired quietly.

In a flash I could tell how very pointed this question was. If I said yes, then I could be used somehow against him, even in this new world. I was positive that he had succeeded with our plan to some degree. If I said no, then I was untrustworthy. I was untrustworthy anyways.

"He was in my year." He seemed satisfied with this answer, because he finally left the room in a swirl of his blue robes.

I noticed the girl, Julia staring at me. I turned my head to stare right back. After several minutes of silence, she finally grinned and said, "I like you. You definitely are not afraid to protect what you want." I smiled back.

"I have something worth protecting." Tom.

"I have no doubt."


	18. Chapter 18

Over the next few weeks, I knew that Dumbledore was watching me closely. Quite closely. A new term had begun, and the first years were beginning to be sorted. I had become quite close with Julia, as she showed me around the barely changed castle. It must have seemed quite odd, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin walking around together. But even now in this new time, things had barely changed. I still had that calm, cold persona that people seemed so wary of, and even in my most carefree of moments, there was always a dark undertone to my smile. I was still feared, respected, and envied by all.

I had been introduced as the transfer student from Beaxbuton's Academy, and this story was generally accepted. There were rarely transfer students, but people still seemed convinced. When I had questioned Hogwarts' regular policy of admitting others so late in their training in magic, Dumbledore had only shaken his head solemnly and replied with, "In these dark times… it seems quite likely."

He refused to follow this with an explanation, saying that I could not know too much about the future, so it was best if I was kept in the dark.

So I did my research. I read the daily Prophet religiously, and that was my main source of information. I learned about the boy-who-lived, and how he was now attending Hogwarts. I learned about his defeat of someone who was referred to as only, the Dark Lord.

I had questioned people about these events, but was only ever met with paling faces, and flashes of fear in their eyes. "Who is this person?" I wanted to ask. But I knew that no one would respond. He seemed fairly well know, as a dark wizard, and it would most definitely seem strange if I didn't know of him.

I visited the chamber of Secrets in my spare time. I knew that I could not control the basilisk as Tom had (I didn't speak parsletongue), but it felt like I had a connection to the way that things had been. For as much as things remained the same, I knew instinctually that they had changed dramatically. But whether for better or worse, I did not know.

I was constantly ill at ease, although I did my best to conceal it. I wanted to go back, desperately. But I knew that I had to try to learn everything that had happened since I left. I was searching for answers. And those answers came from the most unlikely of places. Walking one day, down by the lake, by the meadow, I accidently ran into someone I most definitely did not expect.

Professor Slughorn was lurking outside of the greenhouses, trying to clip the leaves of the Venomous Tentacuela. "Seven sickles a leaf!" he was muttering to himself. I quietly approached him. As he turned away from his prize, the leaves grasped in his fist, he caught sight of me.

"Goodness me!" he jumped, "you certainly scared the wits out of me." He exclaimed, clutching his heart. Then he peered more closely at my face. "My God… you look exactly like someone I once knew." He turned took a step closer. "Exactly like her," he said in wonder.

I was in a precarious position. I raised my eyebrow and said, "I didn't know you taught here anymore professor…?" I questioned.

"Slughorn, Slughorn." He muttered, still staring at my face, apparently lost in though. As I moved to turn away, he began to speak quietly behind me.

"She was an intelligent girl. One of the most intelligent students that I've ever taught. Aside from… well, she was. Quite pretty, too. But there was something about her that… drew everyone to her, and yet chilled you to the bone all at the same time. She would have been quite powerful, that much is certain." His eyes had a far away, lost look in them. Remembering, what to him, was long past, "The only person who never seemed to be afraid of that aura she had, had the very same feeling as him. Oh, they were brilliant. Made quite a handsome couple as well. I always told him so…"

I could feel my heart clench at his words. I was momentarily overcome by a wave of memories. His arms around me, his lips in my hair…

"But I don't suppose you're interested in the ramblings of an old potions professor, eh?" he chuckled a little, coming back to the present, bringing me with him.

"Actually I would," I said a little to quickly, "I've been getting a lot of that for the last few weeks, ever since I arrived in England," I was planning my words carefully, "many people have said that I remind them of someone, but they will never give me any insight into this girl's mysterious past." I laughed. "It's not as if she became the Dark Lord." Slughorn only gave me a black look in return.

Hesitantly, he raised his wand to his temple, and pulled out a long, silvery strand. I knew what it was.

"I have never showed this to anyone," he whispered, "but perhaps…perhaps you will be able to…" he trailed off, pulling a vial out from his cloak. "I have a feeling about you," he said, "just like her." He shoved the flask into my hands, his shaking.

"Thank you," I whispered. He flashed me a long look before striding back towards the castle. As I watched his silhouette against the evening sky, I wondered what the silver memory swimming in the glass would reveal.


	19. Chapter 19

The scene formed before me, darkness twisting and forming itself into various shapes, all making up a very familiar scene.

_Professor Slughorn stood near the middle of the room, watching the doorway. He had been talking to Tom Riddle since he had arrived, but something seemed to be agitating the boy. He constantly glanced over his shoulder, to the entrance. Quite unusual._

_ "Tom, my boy, what ever is the matter? You seem to have a nervous twitch! Most unlike you." The professor exclaimed, clapping him on the back. But, as a hush fell over the room, he received his answer._

_ A young woman had entered the room. She wore a short cocktail dress of an emerald green color that hugged her body tightly. Her auburn hair was left loose, and tumbled down her back in waves. She appeared __poised, and cool, as if everyone at the party was completely beneath her notice. She stood there for a minute, lingering n the doorway, tendrils of shadow from the corridor still clinging to her form. Snatching a glass from a passing waiter, __she raised one delicate eyebrow at the Gryffindor boy who had been staring shamelessly at her. He blushed, and quickly turned away. _

_ The professor turned back to Tom, intending to carry on his conversation, but found him completely distracted. He was staring hungrily over Slughorn's shoulder, back towards her. _

_ "You know, Tom, I believe that…"_

I could tell that Tom wasn't listening to a word Slughorn had to say. He had seen Malfoy, and was glaring at him with that completely furious expression on his face. I moved closer towards them to hear what they were saying.

_He made to move towards me, but Slughorn caught his shoulder. "Opportunities like that won't wait forever, Tom." He said quietly, Tom glanced at him, and a silent look passed between them. Then Slughorn clapped him on the back. _

_ I could see Tom pull me from the room, and back out into the corridor. Professor Slughorn chuckled and turned back to the party…_

The scene dissolved, and I was sent spinning into oblivion. Those curls of blackness came back, and reformed into a new memory…

_"I was reading in the library last night, and I came across a term that I didn't quite understand…"_

A brief glimpse, then it dissolved once more and reformed once more…

_Slughorn was standing in Dumbledore's office. He looked rather uncomfortable, fidgeting with the fastenings on his cloak._

_ "I understand that you told something very…controversial to a student last night." Dumbledore fixed him with that stern look._

_ "Oh, come off it Dumbledore," Slughorn chuckled, looking relieved and a bit guilty, "He said that he didn't understand a term that he saw. I simply gave him the meaning of the word, never fear." There was a moment of silence while Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully._

_ "What of the girl in the hospital wing?" Dumbledore suddenly questioned._

_ "An incorrectly brewed potion. Tom tells me that they were experimenting with arachnid* venom. She added the basil leaves before taking the cauldron off the fire."_

_ "Indeed… and do you know these two students managed to procure such a poison?"_

_ "No, no a clue."_

_ "Most curious."_

I felt so dizzy; the memories were coming faster, and faster…

_Slughorn stood in the courtyard at night, pausing his patrol to look up at the moon. He wondered why Dumbledore had asked him to do this… what was that?_

_ Two forms appeared, as if materialized out of the darkness. They were closely intertwined. To close to be allowed at Hogwarts. Whispers crept out of the night, coming from them, and Slughorn felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He did not know what they spoke of, but… _

_ The voice of one rose above the other slightly, and Slughorn knew that they spoke of dark things, secrets no one was supposed to hear. Slughorn felt awkward, intrusive. He knew that he was not supposed to be witnessing such a moment, but Dumbledore had said…_

_ The moon emerged from behind a cloud, it's light washing over the worn cobblestones like rippling water, revealing the two forms. Slughorn gave a little start, the chuckled to himself. He began to walk away quietly, so that they would not be alerted to his presence. _

_ Behind him, she raised he lips to his, Tom's eyes briefly flashing red in the moonlight…_

_ Tom's face, the words, whispered, "horcruxes…"_

_ Dumbledore's office again. "No I haven't seen anything unusual." _

_ "No students out of bed?'_

_ "Well, yes, but nothing unusual…"_

_ "Tom and Reiley, perhaps?" a moment of deadly silence…_

_ "No, sir… nothing…"_

_ The dungeons at night. Slughorn sitting in his office when the door opens. He smiles brightly and puts down his parchment._

_ "Reiley! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" I drew my wand…_

_ The "special services to the school" plaque, that still hangs in the trophy room…_

_ "Tom Riddle?" he questioned Dumbledore skeptically, "are you quite sure?"_

_ "No. I do have my suspicions, however, and my instincts are quite nearly always right" the old man stated gravely. _

_ "But…how? Why?" _

_ "I think both you and I know the answers to those questions." Slughorn looked astonished and awed at the same time. _

_ "So he did accomplish it."_

_ "In her fifth year, to be precise. A few months before she disappeared." Now Slughorn looked horrified._

_ "She did it first? Why? Who did… the boy who was never found?" Dumbledore nodded._

_ "And I suppose you think that Tom killed her then? He wouldn't have. I knew him better than you, before he…changed. It's been many, long years Albus. He's gone. Lily and James…" he trailed off shaking his head._

_ "The boy-who-lived did not entirely destroy him. The dark lord will return."_

_ There was a knock on the office door. Both men froze. "Enter." Called Dumbledore after a moment's hesitation._

_ "It's a love potion…"_

_ "He's a parslemouth…"_

I emerged from thesea of memories gasping. I lay sprawled on the floor of Dumbledore's office. It was late, and I knew that he would be back soon. As I collected the memories, hastily storing them under my robes and I raced down the spiral staircase. My thoughts were everywhere. But amidst the chaos of my mind, one thing managed to make it's way through.

They knew. They knew that we had succeeded.

Another thought floated to the surface as I leaned against the wall, clutching a stitch in my side. Tom was the dark lord. That thought made me smile. He had succeeded. But…what had they said about the boy-who-lived? _"He did not completely destroy him. The dark lord will return…"_

***A/N: I have no idea what Aragog's species is called, so if you could correct me, that'd be great. I think its something like what I put…**

**Also, I'm not going to force you, but… you see that lonely little button down there? The one that says review? Please press it **


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello again, this chapter is dedicated to Jazzie x Jeopardy because I was starting to get really discouraged, and seriously thought about just killing everyone so that the story would be over with. BUT that's not gonna happen anymore. I love you guys! Enjoy! **

The boy who lived. Harry Potter. Everyone knew his name. I was the only one who did not yet know his story. It began is a whisper, then wave after wave of rumors, sweeping through the classrooms of Hogwarts. The boy who lived was here.

I eventually stumbled across the entire story while searching the library for books to complete my History of Magic essay. Even though I had been transported to a completely different time period, the work ethic was still the same.

It was called, _Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord, _which was an extremely melodramatic title to begin with, but I soon discovered that the content was even more so. It told, in a very flowery language, the story of an evil wizard who rose to power, but was defeated in Godric's Hollow, by a mere boy, barely one year of age. I was certain that this was who Tom had become. Tom was the dark lord.

But no one could confirm this theory to me. The dark lord seemed to be a very popular topic of conversation, so it wasn't difficult to bring him up. But no one was able to tell me his name. They grew very pale, and refused to call him anything besides "he-who-must-not-be-named." It was all very frustrating. I would never find the truth, it seemed, until I heard them talking.

It was nothing more than a casual conversation between the Weasley (even in my short time here I had come to know of Fred and George and their infamous pranks), the bushy haired girl, and the boy with the glasses. I didn't even know why I was listening in. They were first years, for god's sake. What could they possibly have to say that would be interesting?

I heard quite a great deal about a dog named Fluffy, and something about Nicholas Flamel. I was about to turn away when I heard one of the whisper "Voldemort."

It was he nickname that Tom had fashioned for himself in one of our years. He never wanted to keep his muggle father's name; he was ashamed of it, although he would never admit it. I understood, without words.

Having nothing better to do (I had been placed back into fifth year, in an annoying turn of events), I decided to follow the boy. Harry Potter. I didn't know what significance he held yet, except for defeating the dark lord. But that bothered me little. Tom could not have been defeated by a mere infant. Even if Tom had truly been killed, he had a fallback plan. The horcrux.

In my heart, I knew that he wasn't gone. He hadn't been defeated by the boy. I knew that he was alive. I couldn't quite explain how I knew, but I could feel it.

I followed him through the twisting corridors of the castle. He was alone, now. It had been a few hours, and most everyone in the castle had gone to bed, filled with the Christmas dinner from the Great Hall. He looked like he was in quite a hurry, although I couldn't imagine where a first year could possibly be running off to, especially in the dead of night.

He rounded a corner, and slipped into an abandoned classroom so quickly that for a brief moment, I was certain that I had lost him.

I waited out in the corridor, but he didn't emerge. Finally getting tired, I began to walk away. As soon as I turned to go, the door behind me creaked open, and the boy came out, a very sad smile on his face.

I was overcome by curiosity. I eased through the doorway, so as not to disturb the creaky hinges. There was nothing in the room, save a few dusty desks and chairs and… a mirror. It stood in the center of the room, imperious and cold. I felt myself drawn to it. I peered into the glass, excepting to see only my reflection, but instead was astonished at what looked back out at me.

I saw Tom. But he was different. Something inside of him had changed; I could see a more manipulative gleam in his eye than ever before. He held himself differently too. More imposing, intimidating than ever before. When you looked at him, you would know that this was someone to be feared, someone who had power. I shuddered at the wave of pleasure that suddenly assailed my body. This is what Tom could be. This is what, I believed he would become.

I was there, in the mirror as well. I did not stand in his shadow, but rather side by side. I was his equal, a woman both beautiful and terrifying. I had a lilting smile on my face, as if I knew a secret that could easily destroy you. Tom's arms were around my waist, and as I watched, he turned to the version of me in the mirror and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

"What do you see?" came a quiet question from behind me.

I started slightly at Dumbledore's voce. "I didn't see you sir." I quietly replied. He simply chuckled.

"What do you see?" he asked again.

"Something that could have been, once." I replied softly. My gaze was still fixed upon the mirror, hungrily staring at the scene. "What is this?"

"That," Dumbledore said, "Is the Mirror of Erised."

"And what does it do? It does not reflect the future." My tone was sad, aching with longing. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a voice whispered that I was in danger. Dumbledore already knew too much. I should not give him any more information. He was enough of a threat already.

"It shows us, nothing more and nothing less, then the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts."

I stared at the mirror, still unable to tear my gaze away. Tom…he meant that much to me? It was true, I realized. And it saddened me. I had known him before we went off to Hogwarts, before he even knew that he was a wizard. I knew what he would see if he looked into the mirror. I knew that I wasn't a part of it, and that thought tore at my heart.

"What do you see?" Dumbledore asked again, "Is it really so painful?" I shook my head, trying to convince myself as well as him. "Then why do you weep?"

Astonished, I raised my hand to my cheek, surprised to find it slick with tears. I hadn't cried for many, many years. I had never allowed myself to show such weakness. Not since…

But it didn't matter now. I had never allowed myself weakness such as love either, and I had ended up unwittingly falling for Tom.

Dumbledore's voice startled me out of my reverie.

"Your mysteries seem to continue to accumulate." He chuckled softly, "I do not wish to cause you more pain. But I must know…" he trailed off, his voice quite with the unspoken question.

Tom trailed his hands down my reflection's sides, caressing her with his feather light touch. I shivered, remembering. It was a gesture of both passion and possession. I was _his_, and no one else.

At long last, I tore my gaze away from the mirror, looking up at Dumbledore. I knew that he could see the barely restrained madness and longing in my eyes. "I see the only man I have ever loved." I whispered.

He only nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "Love is powerful. It has both the ability to heal, and to destroy. But without it, we cannot survive." He surveyed me with his ice blue eyes. "It is an encouraging thought that each person, no matter how young or old or tall of short, is able to identify with that powerful emotion." We sat in silence for a few moments. I did my very best not to look back into the mirror, but was sorely unsuccessful. I was drawn to it, simply by the promise of seeing his face again. I was so weak. It disgusted me.

I wasn't paying very much attention to Dumbledore anymore, to focused on the picture in the mirror, not knowing if it was true, or even possible. His next question I only half heard.

"What was his name?" I answered without even pausing to think.

"Tom. Tom Riddle."

"Is that so…" he mused.

Immediately, I could feel the tension in the room, and glanced away for a moment to see him sitting visibly stiffer. He seemed wary, and on his guard. Suddenly, as my words caught up with my thoughts, I realized that I had made a very grave mistake.

***A/N: the next chapter will all be a flashback, to explain some of my character's cryptic remarks about her past. For all of you who reviewed, THANK YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! **


	21. Chapter 21

**YAY another chapter finally. MY STORY IS OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK! XD I have mono, so I've been sleeping to much. I have no motivation. Stupid mono :P Anyways, thought I'd give you a bit of background and such, to help clarify some of the more cryptic comments. Enjoy!**

_"No, daddy, no!" There was a bang, and a loud flash of green light. The other children coward in their rooms, shrinking into the gray sheets of their beds, burrowing farther and farther under the covers, trying to escape the cries that pierced the night air like a knife. None of them would help. They never did. _

_ "No, no, PLEASE!" The scream came again. Worse than the cold and the poor meals were the screams. They were insatiable, something that you couldn't protect yourself against. You could pick the maggots out of the bread or try and steal an extra coat from the cupboard down the hall, but the screams penetrated all. There was no escape but sleep. And sleep never came on nights like tonight. _

_ The children were always wary of the house across the street. An old mansion, crumbling and decaying. There was an air of power about it. The maid who cooked the orphan's food often told them tales of the old house. Stories about people who went in, and never came out. Rumors that made the children shiver with fear. But no one ever asked about the screams. _

_ In the mornings, it was better. On rainy days, when no one was allowed to go outside and the haze of fog covered the old mansion, you could almost forget that it was there. It faded, gray as the sky, into the background. It was if it never existed._

_ But it did, and apart from those rare rainy days it seldom faded from the children's minds. It was a constant part of their thoughts, their fears that should they stray to close, they would be the next ones to disappear, the next person whose screams tore through the night. _

_ Tom was the outcast of the orphanage. He was the one who was the freak the loner. Unloved and unaccepted by everyone. Sometimes, when he crouched in mud outside, he wished that the mansion would steal some of them away. His tormenters, the ones who blindfolded and left him there, alone, shouting for help._

"_C'mon, Tom! D'nt you wanna play with us?"_

"_Tommy thinks he's to good for us." Rough hands grabbed at him, pushing and shoving until he lost all sense of direction. A blow to his stomach left him doubling over, gasping for air._

"_Tommy thinks he's better than us, Tommy thinks he's special just 'cuz he din't get in no trouble for what he done to the rabbit." He was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to protect himself from the blows he could not see. _

"_Freak." They spat the word, and left him there, alone, the darkness already beginning to consume him. _

_ He had seen her several times, but he didn't know her name. She appeared, sometimes, at the window, in the room opposite his, staring out at the streets below, as if she was a bird, caged and unable to fly away. Tom knew that the screams came from her. _

_ On the day the man came, she was there, too. She was visiting the orphanage, although no one ever said why. The old man talked with her briefly, handing her a sealed envelope. Tom couldn't hear what they said. As she turned away from him, Tom couldn't restrain the shock he felt at her appearance. _

_ She was quite pretty, golden brown hair falling part of the way down her back, bright flashing green eyes. She exuded power and command, yet it felt somehow repressed. But the thing that caught, and held Tom's attention was the swollen purple bruise blossoming below her left eye. _

_ That was the day the he found out about Hogwarts, that he discovered that he was special. He had always known this, somehow, but it felt right to have some one confirm it. That's what the old man, Dumbledore, did. _

_ They were sorted into the same house, and became quite close. But no matter how powerful and strong she became, he could always glimpse that hint of vulnerability in her eyes, that trapped feeling that she had exuded when he first saw her. It was years before he finally found out why._

_It happened one night. They were prefects, head boy and girl. He had thought the bath was empty. As he entered, he saw her emerge from a cloud of steam, a robe tied loosely around her body. _

_ Tom couldn't deny the way he felt then. He had wanted her from the beginning, and with each passing year his feelings only grew stronger. He continuously pushed them away. It was a weakness, he knew, to feel anything for this girl. It would interfere with his…their plans. He already kept her far to close to him. She was his equal in every way, intelligent, cunning, charming. It was dangerous push her away. She would find a way to have her revenge, and he knew that he could not succeed without her. But to have her be so involved with him was equally as deadly. Someone might think to use her against him…_

_ Not wanting to alarm her, he slipped from the shadows, "Reiley…" he said quietly. She turned suddenly, a flash of surprise in her eyes. Her robe slipped off of one shoulder, exposing a crescent of her pale skin. She quickly yanked it back up, but not before he had seen. _

_ Crossing the room quickly, he spun her around towards him again. A dark fire lit his eyes with a red light. His hands were rough, jerking her robe back down. Tom's mouth pressed into a hard line. She looked away, down towards the tiles on the floor. The white, ropelike scars were plainly visible now, the coils of the old wounds cool, like the scales of a snake. _

_ "Who did this to you?" It sounded like more of a statement than a question. His voice rang with a cold fury, a rage so incredibly intense. As well as she knew Tom, she had never seen him this angry. She was silent. Too caught up in the feeling of his hands on her skin, lightly brushing against her scars. She shuddered almost imperceptibly, imagining how he would react if he knew the full extent of her wounds. Imagining his pale fingers skimming over the colorful bruises and cuts that she hid so well under skirts and tights, the ones that trailed over her arms and far up her legs…_

_ Pulling Reiley out of her thoughts as he shook her, and demanded again, "Who did this to you?"_

_ "There is nothing you can do, Tom."_

_ "WHO DID THIS?" He thundered. She flinched away from him. He had never lost his temper like this. _

"_I told you, there is nothing you can do." His breathing was heavy, like that of an angry bull about to charge. His eyes held that fearsome red glow. "Tom, you are not yourself, please-" Her voice was abruptly cut off as he struck her cheek. The contact with her skin made a startling slap that resounded through the echoy room. Stunned, she slowly brought her hand to her face where a welt was already forming. Then her features hardened. _

_Wrenching herself from his grasp, she stalked towards the doorway. On her way out, she paused, and spoke without looking back._

"_You already know the answer, anyways." _

_Then the door snapped shut. _

_Abandoned, once again, Tom stood motionless in the middle of the room. He did indeed, he realized, know the answer to the question. But it was terrible. He did not want to consider it. _

_It was no more terrible than what he had just done, he reflected. Tom lowered his hand from where it was resting in the air, as though some bit of her still lingered to give it a place to lie. _

_She was his weakness. Anyone who was a threat to her was a threat to Tom and his cause. Including her father. Including himself. _

***A/N: Review please! Love y'all!**


	22. Chapter 22

That moment in time will be forever etched into my memory. The horror as I realized that vital information had so unwittingly slipped from my tongue. My face struggled to keep its masked countenance, but I knew that my eyes betrayed the fear I felt in that moment. I knew that I had failed.

"Tom Riddle," he repeated the words, barely more than a whisper, already knowing that we were both fully aware of their significance. My body felt as though it was seized in an iron grip. I was trapped now, in the clutches of this old man. That fact only added insult to injury.

"You said I the hospital wing that you were in the same class," it was all a game now, a game that Dumbledore was, it appeared, determined to continue playing, even though he already knew. He knew that I was cornered, like a mouse stalked by a cat. Now that cat wanted to play with its food. He smiled, "I daresay the small fact that you were in love with him managed to slip your mind." I made no move to respond. I could only stare, still unmoving at the mirror, hiding the tumult of emotions roiling inside of me.

"When he was at school, he was undoubtedly one of the more brilliant students. Seemingly perfect in every way. But few realize what he has become. The boy that once was is no more." He turned to fix his ice-cold eyes on mine, "Tom Riddle died long ago. Only Lord Voldemort remains."

But Tom is Lord Voldemort. In my mind, the two names were interchangeable. The Tom that Dumbledore knew was merely a façade, a false persona used souly for gaining others trust. Tom was not dead, so Voldemort was not dead.

It was obvious to me what was going on in Dumbledore's head. He could not believe that Tom Riddle was a bad person. He didn't want to. So Voldemort and Tom Riddle became two entirely separate beings in his mind. I hated him for it, for refusing to acknowledge that Tom had become the most powerful dark wizard of all time, surpassing even Grindewald.

He spoke again, softly but with hidden razors in his words, "You knew him, though you lied to me about it. You were close to Tom. I cannot allow you to leave now." I gritted my teeth. He would refuse me my only way home; the time turner. And I could not kill him. Dumbledore would be of no used to me dead. Killing him would not fix the time turner.

"Voldemort, not the boy you loved, has killed thousands of wizarding families. Innocent children. You can help us stop him."

"What makes you so sure that I can? He never shared any of his information with me. We were not very close." Lying through my teeth.

"You recognized this," he lifted his hand up, and a beam of moonlight washed over it, revealing the ring, "for what it truly is. You have information that you can still give us."

I was trapped. Maybe, I thought suddenly, I could give Dumbledore the bare minimum of information, but enough to satisfy some of his questions. Once he returned the time turner to me, I could change the past. I clung to this fragile hope. It was my only way out.

"What do you want to know?"

He smiled, his glasses flashing, briefly obscuring his eyes, lending him a possessed look. "Everything."


	23. Chapter 23

_They both had returned to their homes for the summer holidays. Tom, to the orphanage, and her to the mansion. The summer days passed rather uneventfully, and they corresponded frequently. She owled him, and he often asked why she couldn't simply walk out the door and across the road to see him, but this question was always met with a swift change of subject. He already knew the answer anyways. _

_ The night before they were supposed to return to Hogwarts, however, the screams returned, louder and more bloodcurdling than ever before. _

_ The cries that rent the air triggered something inside of Tom. For the first time since he could remember, he felt fear. Fear for her. Tom wanted to protect her from the thing that caused those screams. Her filthy, halfblood father. His dread turned to anger. This had gone on for far to long. It made her weak, unsure of herself. She was terrified of the brute, of the things that he did to her. Repulsive things._

_In a way, it was not so unlike the orphanage, with the beatings from Ms. Cole and the maid and the other children. But though he had watched others endure similar things in the past, Tom would not stand for it. Not when it came to her. She belonged to him, and him alone, whether she was aware of it or not. _

_It was a still night, but the air held an unnatural chill. Mist swirled silently around the mansion. Only the cries periodically shattered the dark. _

_Before entering the old house, he paused his hand on the knob, his resolve wavering. Tom knew how powerful her family was on her mothers' side. It would be… imprudent to anger ones who could one day prove to be useful allies. _

_ Another shriek tore through the air, then all fell deadly silent. Tom's previous misconceptions were flung away, and he shoved the door of the old mansion open. _

_ The orphans across the road lay under their covers each in their own little gray cell. It was a terrible night, more terrible than any one could remember. There were the screams for an hour or so, but after a blinding flash of green light, all had fallen into a pressing quiet. That deadly silence was more menacing than any sound that had ever leaked from beneath the timbers of the old mansion. It was a silence that was both petrifying and triumphant, as though a formidable enemy had been conquered, only to give birth to an even more terrible evil than the one destroyed had been. _

_ Tom stood in the center of the drawing room. It was handsomely furnished with red velvet chairs and stools. Heavy drapes fell to the floor in dusty folds, obscuring the undoubtedly darkened windows. It was a fine room, save for a metallic scent that lingered about the pile of the carpet. Here and there, it was dotted frequently with a substance that made the rug viscid. _

_ The body lay where it had fallen on the couch. Neither of them made a move to put him into a more appropriate position for the dead. His eyes remained wide open and glassy like milky orbs reflecting half-light. _

_ She had collapsed in the corner of the room, her eyes unfocused. She barely registered what had occurred moments before. Her legs were tucked under her body, and her head bowed far forward until it almost touched the ground, the position of a monk in prayer._

_ Tom crossed to her side, but she flinched away from him, as if expecting another blow, or another slash with the knife that was still locked in the grasp of the dead man's fist. Her back was bloodied with countless cuts, overlapping and circling back around to meet each other, as if her someone was a player in a morbid game of tic tac toe. _

_ Though her rescuer, Tom was afraid to touch her. Her knew that she had been hurt in many more ways than he could currently view. "That bastard," he growled. _

_ The sound of his voice appeared to awaken her from her trance. Her eyes came into focus more and she shivered. He had killed him in cold blood. The thought of such power terrified her, and yet… allured her so. _

_ "Tom," she whispered. Whether she was delirious, or had finally become aware of his presence, he did not know, but he regarded it as an invitation to approach. When he reached her, she shakily drew her arms around his waist, tugging at him. He cautiously returned the embrace. After a moment, she carefully lifted her head and brought her lips to his. _

_ He understood that she only sought the feeling of safety in this gesture, but he relished it as much as he could. Tom understood that this meant nothing to her, that she was only giving him a token of her relief and gratitude. Nothing more. Yet their kiss still burned with veiled lust. Her blood soaked into his jacket as she pressed herself softly against him. _

_He was afraid again. Only she could make him feel this way, wary of the darkness that normally, he readily welcomed, the gloom that was constantly lying inside of him, coiled around itself, like a monster hidden deep inside its cave awaiting an unsuspecting victim. The shade bound her to him, attracted her. She longed for the monster, shared in its sadistic pleasures. It enticed her. She hungered to embrace it, regardless of the consequences. _

_He knew this; he both yearned for, and dreaded it. He would not pull her close, for fear that the darkness would lash out at her, destroying the inexplicable craving that she had for the monster. For him. He was afraid that she would leave him. He would be alone again, in his quest and in his sufferings. Alone with naught to do but wait for the shadows to consume what was left of him, to eat away the love he had for her. _


	24. Chapter 24

And so I waited. I told Dumbledore as little as I possibly could, despite the direct questions that he threw at me with such speed and force that even Tom would have had difficulty remaining calm and indifferent.

Dumbledore was an old hand at this game. He tried to get inside of my mind, attempted to turn me against Tom, against myself. He made little remarks here and there that escaped passed my defenses and twisted, burning hot, like brands, into my mind.

Despite his continued efforts, he learned nothing more than what he already knew. He was frustrated with me, and his inability to make me crack. I answered his questions in short, clipped answers that told him little, and refused to speak unless asked a direct question. It was quite tiresome, like a never-ending game of cat and mouse. Only it was unclear who was the hunter and who was the hunted.

I wished that he would simply grow to exhausted of this game, and give me back my time-turner, allowing me to go back. But he held firm, proving to be just as stubborn, if not more so, than I was.

Gradually, I began to notice a change in myself. I wasn't sure what caused it; the result of time traveling perhaps. I felt…different.

I eventually came to realize that for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do. I was conflicted, struggling with myself between what I wanted, and what was good. Never before, as incredible as it sounds, had I ever paused to consider that there was a difference between "good" and "evil."

In my short life, I had experienced much pain and sorrow; most of it fell upon me from the hands of those close to me, those who cared for me. They beat me and cursed me, yet they were not evil. Those who extended a hand for me to help me back up when I had fallen, but acted out of pity, were not good.

In the light and dark of this world, those people fell into a different zone, not quite belonging to either one. To good for the dark, to evil for the light. They existed in a state of eternal dusk, the sun never fully rising or setting on their lives.

I had never quite been one of them. I was drawn to the dark, and to its seductive power. It entranced me, lured me with whispered promises of greatness. Tom _was_ the embodiment of that power. He was darkness and mystery itself.

Ever since I had arrived in this new time, I had become even more addicted it. Every chance I could, I sought the monster. But my needs were never fully satisfied, and I knew that they never could be. Not without Tom.

A week came and went, and in its' passing arrived the end of the term. Curiously, the school did not seem to be as lethargic as it normally did before summer. Whispered and rumors resonated through ought the passage ways and halls of Hogwarts. Something had happened. Something big.

I was finally satisfied in my quest for answers when on the last day, Julia strolled over and sat at my table. I nodded to her. She seemed anxious to say something.

"Cat got your tongue?" I smirked at her. She dismissed my quip with a wave of her hand, brushing it aside.

"You haven't heard, have you?" she said quietly. Her expression caught me off guard. She appeared to be agitated, worried even. "They're saying that last night, Harry Potter fought You-Know-Who again, here at school. Something to do with the third floor corridor."

My chest felt constricted. Tom had been here? At Hogwarts? "When?" I said. My voice was hoarse, and Julia looked worried.

"I know, it's so difficult to believe. We were in such danger! I heard that…" but the rest of her ramblings were lost to my ears. My thoughts were racing at light speed. He came back? Why?

Well, if he came back once, he would do it again. Hogwarts was Tom's home, his first real one. It meant much to him.

He would return. And when he did, I would still be here. I would wait for him, no matter how long it took. Even forever.


	25. Chapter 25

**Back on track with the story. I now know where it's going! Yay! This is probably not what you guys expected… :) but all be become clear in time! Now read on!**

The rumbling noise of the students leaving from the feast in the Great Hall reached me, even though I was in the dungeons, lying on the couch in the common room. The same couch that Tom and I…

But it was no use lingering on that now, even though all I seemed to be doing these days was thinking of him. I had tried to resign myself to the fact that I was no longer sure if I could ever return, but I was sorely unsuccessful.

I couldn't stand the fact that one simple action had stripped me of almost all my power, the power that I had once had. I still retained my abilities, but not the same reputation. People had feared me then, and rightly so. Their fear made them easier to manipulate, easier to control. Here, no on even knew my name.

In addition to that, I missed Tom. I had never fully appreciated how much I needed him until we were separated. It left me crippled, curling in on myself, refusing to come out, yearning for the way things once were. The way that they could have been. I began to lose the last shred of hope that I still held on to. The hope that I would see him again.

The concept of love had always barely escaped my grasp. I never understood what it meat to have people care for you. Until that day, that cold, foggy day before we went back to Hogwarts. I knew then that I trust him with my heart and soul. It was very dangerous, and it made me weak. Love made me weak, but in some ways, it made me stronger also.

Now, I was learning to understand another phrase that I had always thought foolish. One that lent me no strength. A broken heart.

Months came and went, and still Dumbledore refused me the time turner. He was convinced that I still had answers to give him. He was wrong. I there was plenty more that I knew, but nothing more to tell him.

It was three weeks into the start of my sixth year. The summer had passed quite uneventfully, mainly due to the fact that Dumbledore had forbidden me from leaving the grounds. I had become bitter and angry, spending my days setting trees in the forbidden forest on fire, soully out of spite for the old man.

Dinner was over, and people began to slowly trickle back into the common room. I sighed and stood. I didn't want to be bothered by their incessant noise, their meaningless chatter now. No one understood what I had been through, what I was still going through. I felt as though something inside of me was dying, drowned in its own tears and the blood from its self inflicted wounds. I simply sought to be alone with my thoughts and memories.

Exiting the common room, I meandered through the castle aimlessly. I felt as though I was searching for something…but I knew not what it was. It always remained cloaked in a haze, just beyond reach of my concise thoughts. Several times, I would feel as though I could almost touch it, but it slipped through my grasp, and I was again left wondering what it had been. It was like I was in search of the darkness that resided with in Tom, that lay dormant, the thing that attracted me to him. I did not understand what I looked for, and no matter how I tried, I could not quite put it into words. Not that it made much of a difference, for as long as I searched, I did not find it.

I was so wrapped up in my musings that it took me several minutes to realize that the bottoms of my robes were completely wet, and my shoes soaked through. They dragged behind me, heavy, trailing the tears that I could not weep.

I looked down at my feet, dazed. There was a good-sized puddle that covered much of the floor in the corridor that I patrolled. I noticed that it leaked from the bathroom containing the entrance to the chamber of secrets.

My gaze fell on something reflected in the water. Red. Like blood.

Memories of a knife slashing the air, ripping at my flesh. The red that had soaked my dress, and the rug with its scarlet stain of despair. Tom's arms around me as I shuddered, to weak to stand.

My eyes traveled up the wall, to the dripping writing. "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE."

The three first years, now second years I suppose, whom I had overheard talking in the great hall months ago were standing opposite me. Harry Potter and his… friends. But I paid them no attention. I was staring up at the letters, a small smile growing on my face. I knew what this signified. He had finally come back to Hogwarts. This time, I knew where he was. I _would_ see him again. Joy filled me at the thought, pure elation. We would be together again. And this time, nothing would stop us.

By this time, a good-sized crowd had surrounded the wall. Murmurs, whispers of horror broke out, hissing up and down the corridor like oil in a frying pan. Rumors, I knew, were already flying, sped on the wind of fear.

"HE KILLED MY CAT! I WANT TO SEE SOME PUNISHMENT!" shrieked the caretaker, lumbering forward. Everyone turned as one to stare up at the feline who hung suspended by her tail from a torch-bracket. While the teachers swept in, to attempt to cover up this mess, I slipped, unnoticed, into the bathroom behind me.

Inside, the water level was much higher. About and inch deep pool covered the white tile floors. It was deadly silent, save for the steady drip of a faucet. The room echoed ominously with every one of my movements. I cautiously took a step forwards.

Suddenly, there was a _whoosh, _and I felt as though my body had been drenched in a torrent of ice-cold water. Atranslucent, whiny looking girl with glasses appeared, inches from my face. She would have looked remarkably like a seal, if it weren't for the murderous expression on her countenance.

"_Come back to bother me again?_" she shrieked in my face_, "come back to make mock my death? Oh yes, pretending to restage it is very witty. Lets all make fun of Myrtle!" _with a wail, she soared backwards over my head, and plunged, head first, into a toilet.

Well, there was something that I didn't expect. Apparently the girl who the basilisk killed elected to stay behind. How irritating. Poor, poor unsuspecting first years. Everyone else knew not to use this bathroom. What a nasty shock that must be, sitting down to do your business, then hearing a gurgling moan from the stall next to yours.

Smothering a chuckle, I settled down to wait.

I lingered for several hours, never moving from that spot where I stood. I cast a disillusion charm over myself and waited. Nothing moved around me, except for the continuous ripples of water.

Eventually, a small girl entered the room. She stood by the sinks, a vacant expression on her face. I wasn't quite sure if she was bewitched, or just a very confused first year. I was just about to ask if she had lost her way, when she opened her mouth and spoke. No words passed her lips, only a harsh hissing. Parsletongue. The sinks all began to move apart. She was the one who was opening the chamber, not Tom himself. She was his pawn, only a tool for manipulation in a much larger game of power.

She flicked her wand, and began to descend downwards. I paused for several breathless moments before I dared follow.

The slimy walls were just as I remembered them. Nothing had changed, though many years had passed. Well, almost nothing. The only difference was the deep carpet of bones that paved the walk-way. Remains of mice, birds, other little creatures. The smell was overwhelming. The bones crunched under my feet as I made my way forward, echoing like gunshots in the silence.

Moments later, I stood before the main room of the chamber. The girl had left it open, so I was able to slip inside. Typical Tom, planning everything so methodically and so perfectly down to the last detail, and is so confident in himself that he assumes no one will dare follow his pawn. _He forgets to shut the door? _Really.

I could see the girl now, lying in the middle of the room, apparently unconscious. I didn't care. I was looking around desperately for him, hoping that he might…

"She wont wake. Not for another hour or two."

I whirled around, to find myself face to face with him. I had waited so long to be reunited with him, but it was not how I expected it. His wand was pointed directly at my chest.

"Tom." I gave him a half a smile, not quite sure how he would react. There was no recognition in his eyes, only wariness.

"You know who I am."

I couldn't help but be confused. It was one of his sly questions, addressed to me in a form that I could interpret and answer in one of two ways; that he expected me to know or that he was questioning how I knew him. But I knew that it was really the second question that he wanted an answer to. What was going on?

"Tom, you don't remember me?" my voice was high-pitched and slightly panicky, and I desperately fought to control it. I had been away from him for so long. I longed to touch him, be with him again. I wanted for him to reach out to me, embrace me, hold me in his arms like he did before. But he seemed… different now. Unfamiliar in his attitude towards me, like he hadn't known me as long as he did. Almost as if I was a stranger.

I approached him cautiously, reaching out to touch him, but he backed away sharply, keeping his wand level with my heart. His face appeared impassive to most, but I could read the fear and confusion buried there.

I saw what was coming seconds before it did. In a flash, I drew my wand from deep inside my robes, and countered the jinx with a shield charm. It happened so fast that I had acted purely on instinct, and had to pause for my thoughts to catch up with my actions.

Tom stood in front of me, a mildly surprised expression on his face. I had blocked his hex. Probably the first to do so in a very long time.

I had waited so long to go back to him, and it wasn't at all like I had wanted. Instead of, I don't know, welcoming me back I suppose, he tried to kill me. Worse, he didn't even appear to know who I was.

"I'm here to help you, Tom," I said lowering my wand. It was all I could do until I could find out the reason behind his lack of recognition.

There was a loud bang, and I was thrown backwards off of my feet, my wand slipping from my grasp. I crumpled to the ground, beginning to lose conciseness.

Tom rummaged through the girl's robes and drawing out a small vial of a clear liquid that looked all too familiar to me. "Veritaserum." I whispered.

He crouched down next to me, turning my face towards him with his light touch, just as he used to. But now, his face held an evil looking smile. "Now lets see who you really are," he smirked. Then I was gone.

**Review please, and tell me how assssssstonished you were!**


	26. Chapter 26

_He approached the old man. He was in a fury, angrier than he had ever been before. How dare he. The only person, the only woman, who he had ever been close to. Who he had cared for. The only person who had ever caused him to feel anything. And now she was gone. All because of Dumbledore. _

_ Tom's face contorted as he struggled to control his emotions. But they were so overpowering, he could not force them into submission. For the first time in his life, he completely lost control. Tom sank to his knees and let out a cry of pure despair. His head sank into his hands. He felt as though an ocean of pain was threatening to consume him. Memories of her assailed him, flashing one after another before his eyes._

_The first time that he had seen her, at the orphanage…_

_Her accidental revealing of her scars…_

_Her lips on his, warm and soft, full of lust and passion and power…_

_The fear that he felt when he finally realized that the screams that has attacked his ears every night at the orphanage for years, came from her throat…_

_That night in the common room, their forms intertwined on the couch…_

_Talking to her in the library, late at night, plotting to open the chamber of secrets…_

_Rocking back and forth, he curled in on himself. She couldn't just be…gone. _

_He remained that way of a few more seconds, trying to get a hold on himself, desperately trying to regain control. Eventually, he rose, slowly, and approached the old wizard. He held out his wand towards the vile…despicable professor. _

_Then he paused. He should not wipe Dumbledore's memories of her now. He would need the old man to give an explanation for her disappearance. Besides, as much as he hated the man, he could still prove to be useful towards their…his cause. _

_With a flick, the silvery threads of Dumbledore's thoughts were absorbed into Tom's wand. The chamber of secrets had been wiped from his memory. Tom levitated him up the tunnel, and tossed him out into the corridor. He would awake hours later wondering how on earth he had gotten there, then simply dismiss it as one of those funny things, and venture off towards the kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate. _

_Tom pocketed his wand. He would wait. He would wait, but he would not forget. Never forget. And he would have his revenge. _

_ Years passed. At first, his Death Eaters questioned her disappearance, in their own little timid way. Malfoy was slightly more adamant, but that bothered Tom little. He simply brushed all of their questions aside with a cold look. _

_ There were whispers among the other students, he knew, saying that he had murdered her. That he did not want to share his power, or that she had been pregnant and he did not want the baby. But he made no move to dispel them. He did not want to talk to anyone. Not about her. _

_ She was the only one whom with he could have seen himself sharing anything with. On those moonless nights that they had met in the courtyard, under the cloak of darkness, they had shared all of their secrets, their plans for the future. Never, in any of those dark speculations had he considered a path in which they were separated. They were always together, the rulers of a new, perfect world. The most powerful duo in all of history. But that was no more. _

_ He continued with his work, hoping against hope, that one day she would return, that she would find a way back. In the meantime, he erased all of the Death Eater's memories of her. It was better that way, he thought. They would never know the weakness that he had for her. _

_ Several years passed. Tom was beginning to rise to power. He had succeeded in the creation of several horcruxes, but he still had much to do…_

_ He was returning to Hogwarts today, for several reasons. He needed a place to conceal one of his horcruxes, and he knew exactly where to hide it. It was a place that no one but him knew. He was the only one who had discovered the deepest secrets of Hogwarts, and he alone knew of this place. _

_ He had long ago hidden her horcrux. He had given it many additional enchantments as he had become more proficient in dark magic. It was now in a place that was as safe as it could be. No one would ever discover it there, he was sure, and even if the did, the cave would take its toll upon their sanity; they would not escape. _

_ He was going to request a job here from Dumbledore. He didn't really expect his request to be accepted, but it still provided the cover he needed to obscure it. _

_ Tom knocked twice o the heavy doors, and an old voice responded with surprising vigor, "Come in!"_

_ He entered, and observed how little the place had changed, even though quite a few years had passed. The same portraits loomed down at him, except with the addition of Dippet. _

_ "Headmaster." Tom fought to keep his voice respectful. It was no easy task. _

_ "Tom," Dumbledore appeared unsurprised. He never seemed to be surprised. "What can I do for you?"_

_ Tom then proceeded to explain how essential it was that he be employed at Hogwarts. Utter lies, of course. He had already succeeded in one of the things he had to do. The horcrux was safely hidden. Only the headmasters' memories were left now. Revenge would come later, he promised himself. But it was still so difficult to see him sitting there, as though he had not a care in the world. He didn't remember what he had done of course, but that made him no less despicable to Tom. Dumbledore was a threat: an exceptionally powerful wizard who would, as he had learned to late in the chamber, do anything to prevent another dark lord from rising to power. _

_ Dumbledore was speaking now, but Tom was no longer listening. He knew that he was refusing his request, which he had anticipated. Now was the moment. Tom raised his wand, and pointed it at Dumbledore, under the desk. _

"_Obliviate." He whispered. _

_There was an enormous explosion, and both he and Dumbledore were thrown backwards. Tom's last thought before everything went dark was that something had gone very, very wrong. _


	27. Chapter 27

My eyelids felt heavy, and sticky, as though they were covered in honey. I wanted nothing more than to fall back into the eternal pit of darkness, to go back to sleep, but a part of my brain whispered that I was in danger. Suddenly I was wide-awake.

I was in the chamber of secrets, still lying in the place where I had fallen. Tom stood a few feet from me, idly twirling his wand in his long, tapered fingers. He looked far away, lost in thought.

The girl was gone now, I noticed as I glanced around me. All that remained was a small, leather bound book. A soft glow of white light issued from it, then faded, and regressed into the pages of the book. The paper on which words were to be written flipped, as though a slight wind whistled through the air. But not a breath of wind disturbed the stillness.

"You're awake. You were unconscious for far longer than usual." Tom's voice carried no hint of concern, and his face betrayed nothing. There was a slight wrinkle in his brow, as though he were confronted with a particularly challenging puzzle. A riddle. I smirked slightly at the thought.

"You learned all that you could from me, then, I trust?" I inquired.

"Yes." He didn't even turn around to look at me. He sat there, twirling his wand. I knew that he was deep in though.

The silence seemed to stretch on for a lifetime. The only sound that pierced the quiet was the dripping of water, somewhere far above us. Finally, he spoke again.

"You know a great deal."

"Does that statement apply to my comprehensive knowledge of magic and the world, or simply your plans and how you hoped to achieve them?" The corners of his mouth pulled slightly, but I couldn't tell if it was the beginnings of a smile, or something far more terrifying.

"You have a quick tongue," he said softly, "you should be careful on whom you release it. One day you might found that you have picked the wrong opponent."

He stood and approached me. I could see resolve in his eyes. He had come to a decision. I knew what two choices he would offer me.

"No." I said quietly.

Surprise flitted across his face, and he raised an eyebrow. Sitting up, I looked over at him. He stood motionless, still as a statue, waiting for me to offer up an explanation. None was forth coming.

Eventually, he spoke. "You have not yet heard my proposal."

I sighed. "But I know what you will say. The answer is no."

He approached me. I made no move to stop him. This was the Tom that I knew so well. And yet he was not. He didn't know me anymore, and in a way, I felt as if I didn't know him.

But my feelings for him hadn't changed, even though his for me had. Even when he was barely inches away from me, I didn't push him away. I still wanted him.

He leaned towards me, pushing me back down into the ground. All of the blood in my body felt as though it had rushed directly to my face. I had for gotten how intense everything about him was. He had a sly smirk on his countenance, as though he knew that he would win, no matter how I resisted.

I was directly below him now, his chest laying on mine, his hands cradling my head only an inch of two from the ground. His face was so close to mine that I was sure he could feel the heat issuing from it.

"Are you quite sure?" he whispered in his velvety voice, his cool breath caressing my ear, "You said that you loved me. You would follow me anywhere."

"I would," I whispered back, "but not without reason. My feelings do not cloud my judgment."

I felt him freeze. I became still, and for a moment, I was terrified. He was still so unpredictable. I had not forgotten how quick he was to become angry. I still remembered his rage when he saw my scars, the way he didn't hesitate to torture Malfoy. I was so scared that he would do the same to me now, because he thought that I was a threat. I didn't want to lose him to the monster inside. It had already consumed him when I left, except for the one part, the side of himself that he showed to me, and to me alone. I didn't know if there was anything of that left now that his love for me was gone. But then I realized that he was laughing.

"Perhaps." He was definitely smiling, though I could not see it. He pressed his face into my neck, my hair covering his face. His lips softly brushed my collarbone. One of his hands traveled down my face, to lightly rest on my chest.

My back arched, and I involuntarily threw myself into his touch. A gasp forced its way out of my throat.

He chuckled again, removing his hand. "And then again, perhaps not." My face burned with anger and humiliation.

"And so I have a proposition for you." I gritted my teeth. "You may be granted the honor of serving Lord Voldemort."

"I have told you already that my answer is no."

"Ah, but I believe that you could be such an asset to the ranks of my Death Eaters. After all, you are the first I have ever encountered able to block any spell that I have thrown at you." He pulled back to observe my face for a moment, that crafty smile still etched into his face. "It would be wonderful to have someone so powerful on my side. And that is high praise indeed, coming from Lord Voldemort."

"Tom…" I whispered.

"My most…faithful," his voice caressing the word.

Still, I shook my head. Even if I did join, it would be nothing like it was before. He would not hesitate to treat me like a dog. He would beat me if I so much as breathed when he did not command it. He would treat me just like my father had. And I couldn't handle that. I would not submit to it.

"It seems you might require some assistance in making your decision," he smirked.

"Tom, I already…"

"Not to worry," he breathed, moving his head back down towards mine our lips almost touching, "I can be very…persuasive." He closed the distance and kissed me.

It was so different. He was cold and unwavering, but then…

I could tell that something inside of him changed. His lips were softer on mine, pressing slightly, warm and full…just like before. Almost tender again.

Then he pulled abruptly away. He stared down at me, and I could see the confusion in his eyes, as though two parts were struggling within him.

"Tom…?" I asked, reaching out to touch him. His eyes were glazed over, as though he were no longer on the same planet as me. He was lost in his memory, searching for me.

Before my fingers brushed him, he grabbed my wrist, and pressed my hand against his face. Closing his eyes, he thought back.

Why did she seem so familiar, feel so important to him? It wasn't as if he hadn't kissed a girl before. But nothing had ever felt they way this had. It had always been part of a greater scheme, one that he could see but that they were blind to.

But this had been completely different. Once his lips had touched hers, all plotting was thrown from his mind. Suddenly, all he could focus on was how her body was so close to his, how her hands were tangled in his hair…

But what confounded him most was the feeling or familiarity. Their mouths moved perfectly in sync. He instinctually knew her taste, her smell. He remembered them. He felt something inside of him stirring and reaching out towards her. But he couldn't tell what. All he knew was that she was important to him, though he still couldn't say why or how. He couldn't remember her.


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey guys! **

**I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in what seems like forever… so I tried to make this chapter long, (and hopefully interesting.) If any of you are still reading this, enjoy and message!**

My fingertips barely brushed him. I half expected him to recoil from my touch, but instead he grabbed my wrist, and pressed my hand against his face. He closed his eyes, his eyebrows drawn slightly together. It was an expression that I had seen many times; he was deep in thought.

We remained in that position for a long moment, suspended in time. His skin was as cool as always, silky under my palm. I knelt before him, my hand reaching for his face, my robes spread out in a dark stain beneath me. I could focus on nothing but him, how he was actually here with me, after all the times I had dreamed it, somehow coming true. The heat beneath my palms and under my own skin proved that. Then slowly, very slowly, he released me.

The change that came over him was almost immediate. I saw his eyes darken, that red flame leap back into them with a vengeance. His expression became hard once more. Impenetrable.

He did not speak, but roughly shoved me away from him, and I fell backwards onto the morbid carpet of bones, scattering the remains around me. I could not help the soft gasp that escaped my lips as the air went rushing from my body.

I lay there panting. I felt as though I had just apperated a long distance, and my lungs were still pressed flat. Tom stood over me, subtle expressions flickering across his face, almost to quick for me to identify any of them. Anger, regret, fury, confusion.

Suddenly, I became aware of a soft noise, hissing and the movement of a huge body sliding over stone from further down inside of the chamber. I could hear the basilisks' thick coils scraping against the walls as it advanced towards us. Tom's head whipped around and he uttered a sharp, cruel sounding response.

It made no difference; the giant monster did not slow. The crunch of the bones increased, loud popping sounds, as it made its way to the main room where the carpet was the deepest. It was just around the bend now.

I glimpsed the tip of its scaly snout before Tom harshly whispered in my ear, "Close your eyes!" He was close to me again, his voice low and panicked. I did as I was told without a second thought. My heart sped to almost twice its normal tempo. I knew what great danger I was in. I felt the beast approach me.

Suddenly, I felt strong arms around me, wrapping me in an iron cage. I heard Tom hiss again, softer, threatening. I could feel the tension in his body, his arms stiff as he held me. He seemed not to realize how close we were, but it did not escape my notice. With my eyes closed, it felt so… intimate. My heart beat even faster than before.

The snake let loose a harsher sound, and I heard it begin to slither away, crunching again over all those tiny bones, ruthlessly shattering, breaking them.

We waited a while, as the basilisk retreated, until the only sounds were the faint dripping of water from the bathrooms high above us and my quick breathing.

I opened my eyes to see his face, barely inches from mine, his own eyes fast shut. As I watched they opened slowly, gazing back at me. There was that strange, conflicted look in them again.

Barely a second more passed before he jerked himself away from me, releasing me from the prison of his arms.

"You are weak," he hissed, turning away from me. I wanted to reach out to him, but my instincts screamed at me to stop.

"Tom…" I whispered.

"You rely on me to protect you? And you think yourself powerful!" He laughed, a mirthless sound.

"However…" he trailed off, glancing at me from over his shoulder, "you would still prove useful to my ranks. What do you say to me earlier proposal?"

I slowly shook my head. It wouldn't be the same as before. Nothing ever would be. But wasn't this what I yearned for? Hadn't I constantly envisioned us finally reuniting time and time again in the months that Dumbledore kept me imprisoned here? It was, and yet…

"You will be given power beyond your wildest dreams!" he declared, "Your place will be at my right hand." He turned swiftly, and again approached me, closing the short distance between us with a single step. His pale hand reached up to caress my cheek, and I shuddered at his touch. "You would be…my most faithful." He whispered.

Tom. We would be free to be together again. I knew that he would kill the old man, not because of me, but because of the threat that he posed to the overall plan. He was a major obstacle that had to be removed. I would no longer be caged at Hogwarts. But where would I go? In this new world, I did not know how much had changed in fifty years. Hogwarts was timeless, ageing at almost half of the rate as the rest of the world, it seemed. If, one day, I could escape, what would I do without a goal, without Tom? I would no longer have a purpose.

The thought gave rise to a wry smile. Had it really come to this? At one time, I was the most powerful person in the school. No one, not even he could hold sway over me. I had been impossible to control, and I had promised myself that he, of all people, would not. And yet not, now I was the one most influenced by his power. All because of that foolish emotion. Love.

"I…" my voice was hoarse, and I had difficulty forming the words, "I will join you."

He smirked, tilting my chin with one finger and gazed on my face with a contemptuous look. "I knew you would." His hand strayed to the sleeve of my robe, lifting it so that my skin was revealed. Along with my scars.

Though they had faded over time, they were still there, thin faded white lines of rope and twine, criss-crossing and intersecting. I had tried removing many of them by magic, but to no avail. Potions faded them a little more, but they would always come back, glowing, ghostly and pale, a reminder of my past. A past that I had shared with Tom.

I saw him pause, staring at the pale flesh of my arm, the twisting lines there. He seemed lost again, somehow. Lost in memory. Slowly, he traced one of them following it up to almost the crook of my arm. His fingers skipping over my skin, leaving a heated sensation in their wake. Lighter than a butterfly, he touched me.

Until that strange change came over him again, and he seemed to wake from a dream. His eyes flashed red, and he yanked his hands away from my arms.

As quick as a cobra strikes, his wand was out and he placed the tip, burning to my forearm. Darkness flowed out of it, forming shapes, swirling and whispering on my skin. It grew and blossomed, growing larger, contorting until a form began to emerge.

That was when the pain hit me. White hot, and burning like someone was holding a brand to my flesh. It twisted, driving deep into my being. The most sense of clarity… I did not lose consciousness; I could not escape from the pain. Everything came into sharper focus, and each breath of wind was like a thunderstorm to my ears. The pain was driven to the forefront of my mind, becoming the only thing that I could possibly focus on.

It seemed to linger for an eternity, never fading, but continuing to increase, and increase, and—

When it seemed as though I could bear it no longer, it suddenly stopped. Vanished.

There it was, on my arm. Sharp and black. The dark mark. When I designed it, and created the spell for instilling in upon our member's arms, I never thought that I would one day bear it myself. A brand, I had called it, so that we can distinguish our sheep from Dumbledore's.

I was one of those sheep now.


	29. Chapter 29

_He awakened in the hospital wing. The curtains were drawn, and no one else appeared to be in the room. It was quite dark. All was silent and still. His entire body ached, especially his head. _

_Sitting up slowly, Tom reached for his wand of the bed beside him. He casually gave it a flick, and the lamp beside him lit, filling the room with a chilly light. _

_Suddenly Tom realized that he hadn't the faintest clue what he was doing in the hospital wing in the first place. What had happened? He ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly and he struggled to recall what had happened, but he came up empty. How unusual. _

_He recalled that he had come back to Hogwarts to ask Dumbledore for a job... _

_As soon as he thought the old man's name, he suddenly felt furious, though he could not explain why. He had always been wary of him; he didn't seem to like Tom as much as the other professors, but he had never completely hated him. But there was no question in his mind that the emotion flooding though his veins was hate. _

_He reached for the glass of water placed on the bedside stand, and quickly drank it down. He felt as though he were recovering from a bad bought of the flu, shaky and weak. _

_What in the name of Merlin…? He was suddenly overcome with stabbing pains in his forehead, as though a porcupine had just jammed every single one of its quills into the soft tissue of his brain. _

_Groaning, he cast a quick nonverbal spell on himself to make it go away. What had happened? _

_ He could remember going up to Dumbledore's office to ask about a job…and… there was something else, too. _

_He remembered some kind of explosion, and being thrown against the wall before falling unconscience. The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile. I wonder how they had explained that? They would never discover…_

_Tom's thoughts slowed to a halt. Never discover what? There had been something…. _

_Gah. His head ached. It felt like... what was that term muggles used? A hangover. _

_There was something that he was missing, he was sure of it. It was just beyond his grasp. A wisp of memory drifted through his conciseness. A vision of a girl, kneeling before him on a stone floor, a slight haze around her form, as though the world around her was spinning almost to fast for him to follow…._

_But it was a blurry memory, foggy and indistinct, and it slipped from his grasp, and Tom was left reaching for it, desperately truing to figure out why it felt so important. Like he had lost something. _

_Tom shook his head, clearing his mind. He had more pressing things to deal with than this odd sense of forgetfulness. It bothered him, certainly. He never forgot things. How foolish of him, to worry about something as trifle as this. _

_Rising from his place in the hospital wing, he silently crept from the darkened room, quietly closing the door behind him. He left like a ghost in the night._

_In the morning, the nurse would draw back the curtains to check on Tom, and find that he was gone. But she had never been quite sure that he had been there in the first place. Strange things seemed to surround that boy. And stranger things went on at Hogwarts. Goodness knows…and she would bustle off to attend to professor Dumbledore, laying only a few beds down. _

_And so the strange girl (but really not so unfamiliar) faded from Tom Riddle's mind. As his power grew stronger, she grew more and more distant to him, and he gradually lost that lingering feeling that he had lost something important._

_Until one day, she faded entirely. _


	30. Chapter 30

I threw open the bathroom door. It slammed against the wall behind it, creating a resonating bang, but I didn't care.

Hurrying to the sink, I shoved up the sleeve of my dark robes, and held my arm under the tap, turning the water on full force before reaching for a bar of soap and frantically scrubbing at it. My skin was red raw and the water was now boiling hot. Steam clouded the mirrors, and created an artificial fog that consumed the bathroom in a hazy veil. But I was relentless. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my arm bled.

I couldn't take this any more. I couldn't do it. My thoughts were everywhere. My eyes stung as the pain set in, but I did not cry. Surely I was not that weak.

Slowly, I lifted my arm from out of the water. Uneven tears and red rawness, to contrast with the ugly black mark. I could hear it whispering to me, calling my name, filling my head with black and blacker thoughts.

I gasped, doubling over the sink, and emptied the contents of my stomach into the basin. I retched and heaved until there was nothing left. Not that there had been very much to begin with anyways. I hadn't really eaten in weeks. Or slept. Or…anything.

I had spent my hours in the chamber, waiting. When Tom had marked me, I had been paralyzed with that clear pain. I had endured, but I could do nothing. My legs had slowly given way until I lay on the floor of the chamber, consumed by the madness that was only inside of my head. I could not fight it. All I could do was endure, endure and try to survive.

I hated myself. For taking the mark, for giving up my pride. For doing nothing but lying there as Tom crouched and whispered, "Welcome to our ranks. Welcome to the force that will change the world." I hated myself for not even fighting when he drew his wand and said, "Diffendo." I hated myself for feeling almost happy when he whispered, "You are mine now. To use as I wish." I could not bring myself to hate him, though he treated me exactly as my father had. Only myself.

I had gone a week, my body wracked with pain, curled up on the chamber floor. No food, no sleep, no rest from the torture. There were brief periods when it would suddenly stop, but it would always return with a vengeance.

I heard the flush of a toilet, and footsteps approaching me. I tried to straighten up, to jerk my sleeve down over my arm, but vomiting had left me feeling weak, and I did not act quickly enough.

"Hey, are you alright?' I heard a voice, and felt a hand on my shoulder. I could barely control my body, and I stumbled around, almost falling, but the girl grabbed onto me, trying to steady me. "Be careful…" she said, "Goodness, you look as though you haven't slept in a month!"

I turned my face to glance at her. It was the mudblood I saw with Potter. Something or the other Granger. I could see the concern etched into her features. Weakling. But I was no longer in the place where I could call others weak.

"Are you sure you're ok…?" she trailed off, staring down at… my arm. No. Oh no. Why hadn't I been more careful? I should have-

"You have a tattoo?" she asked with a bewildered look on her face.

"I…"

"It's bleeding," she said, "New?"

"More or less…"

"Isn't that normally something that muggles do? I though that your family was pureblood…"

"Yes that's true, but- I'm not very close to them, I guess." I said slowly.

"Well I suppose that I can understand that. But you-"

I drew my wand as fast as I could. A flash of bright white light, and the girl was sitting on the bathroom floor with a very blank look on her face. But I couldn't have her talking to Potter about it, even I she didn't appear to understand.

Wiping my mouth on the back on my sleeve, I quickly exited the bathroom, my blood dripping splatters of rose against the colorless marble of the tiles.


	31. Chapter 31

_The cold pierced through his bones. He felt it in every fiber of his being. He was so alone, so frightened. He was dead, on the inside. Nothing could save him from this. _

_ They had told him it was a game and, naively, he had believed them, so desperate to fit in, so find even one person that he could call a friend in this terrible place. But he had no one. They spun him around, and left him, stumbling blindly over rocks, tripping and scraping his hands so that the blood ran freely. He could feel it pour down over his fingertips, coating his palms and forearms. He decided that he liked the feeling. As the red substance that contained his very life poured out, he could feel some small source of warmth, for a brief moment. Then it too faded._

_ He made it back to the orphanage. Some old woman had taken pity on the poor boy wandering through the streets, all alone, unable to see. She had removed the blindfold to discover that he was not, in fact, blind. Just the victim of a cruel, cruel prank. _

_ It was later that night, when all of the children were sounds asleep in their beds, that Tom stole out and killed the rabbit. He had wanted to see the life leave the animals eyes as it struggled, unable to escape the noose around its neck. Watch its hind feet twitch in the air until it finally went still. _

_ When the boys found it in the morning, he was treated to the worst beating of his life. They cornered him by the closet in the hall. _

"_You've gone an' kill'd Jimmy's rabit!" They yelled vile things and threatened him, too scared of the freaky pale boy to take the first swing. Until the boy known as Jimmy stepped forwards. He wasn't much bigger than the rest of the orphanage boys, but it was well known that he was the oldest, and the meanest bully around. _

_He said nothing simply looked at the small boy before him. He grinned, and reached into the pocket of his too-short pants, pulling something out in his closed fist. The group surrounding the two boys held its breath. The skinny fingers slowly opened. Tom felt his breath catch. _

_Inside of Jimmy's hand lay the slim, pale body of a snake. A milky white color, the scales were almost translucent. Two dark holes were carved into its head where the eyes had been gorged out. Dark eyes widened with horror and disbelief, then narrowed to furious slits. The older boy smiled. He threw the rope-like body to Tom, who fumblingly caught it, cradling it to his chest. The first punch caught him in the side of the head, and he fell to the floor, body curling up to ward off the onslaught of blows, the snake still held securely in his hands. No one saw the moisture glistening in his eyes. _

_No one could have proved that it was Tom of course. But they all knew. Even Mrs. Cole turned a blind eye to the black and purple bruises that grew on Tom's face. There had always been something not quite right about that boy, and though she wasn't allowed to punish him for killing the poor animal, then perhaps the other children could make him understand that killing is wrong. _

_ But that was not the lesson that Tom learned. He learned bitterness, anger and hatred. He resolved that one-day, when he was powerful above all these schoolyard bullies, that he would have them punished for their actions. That he would create a world where wrongdoing is always punished. All are punished. _

**Short chapter just to let you all know that I am writing this story again! I really wanted to put this one in, even though it doesn't have that much relevance to the plotline, because o feel like this is a mentality that the young Tom Riddle would have had Reiley's point of view will be included in the next chapter, which I will begin work on today. Thank you all so much for the favs and follows, and for sticking with the story this far! Reviews and ideas are appreciated!**


	32. Chapter 32

It lay there, unmoving. I knew before my eyes could make out what the form on the ground was. It made me inexplicably sad, like the universe had intended it to be some sort of twisted metaphor.

I crouched, stroking the small snake's pale body. It hadn't been dead long. It's body a cloudy white, like the moon. I could see its tiny yellow eyes still in its sockets. Beautiful.

The wind stirred the lake, sending ripple across the glassy surface. I stood, lifting the snake, tucking it into my robes. My hair blew around my head, whipping into my face. A storm was coming. I turned and headed back to the castle.

On the fourth floor, just passed the astronomy tower, there is a small window seat, with a view overlooking the grounds. I had stumbled upon it in one of my earlier years at Hogwarts, and had not visited it since I had been tossed into the future. It was only a short walk, and not _too_ many trick stairs to remember to jump.

I reached the window, sighing and sinking into the small seat, tucking my feet underneath me. I allowed my body to fall forward, resting my forehead on the cold glass. My breath traced foggy patterns on the pane. I couldn't help the soft, ragged sob that escaped from my chest.

I was broken, I knew. I was most certainly not the strong, fierce, powerful who had first come here, obliterating every obstacle in her way of getting home. I had all but given up.

"Why do you weep, girl?"

I swiftly drew my wand, wincing as the bruises on my arm sharply reprimanded the sudden movement. Tom had been quite rough to me lately. Bruises and small scrapes where the flagstones had torn into me. They were the marks of the times he had shoved me and I had fallen, to weak to support myself, to weak to resist him. "Who's there? Show yourself!" My wand light darted around the abandoned corridor.

"Calm down, and put that light away. You'll wake the rest of the castle."

Reluctantly, I dimmed it a bit, "Where are you? _Who_ are you?"

"Just across from you, girl."

My light found the wall across from me. At first, I almost jumped back, startled that someone could have approached me so noiselessly and unanticipated. But then the light glinted off the gold surrounding him, and I understood.

I was facing an extraordinarily lifelike portrait of a young man. Tall, dressed in a dark coat and knee high boots. By the style of his coat, I could tell that this painting was probably from around my time. He leaned against the frame, appearing utterly at ease. He looked to be about fifteen, perhaps, long blond hair and dark eyes. There was no indication of whom the subject of the painting was, only a simply golden plaque that read, "IN MEMORIUM."

"I do not believe we've had the pleasure," he inclined his head and raised and raised a hand to his chest in a sort of bow, "I would remember such a lovely face." He laughed, "and such dark eyes." He smiled. A sort of look that didn't quite reach his soul. Completely insincere. It reminded me of Tom.

I couldn't help it. I laughed, quite, devoid of mirth. The young man's expression immediately changed into something far more terrifying. A fire flared in his eyes, and his countenance became a mask, blank, with a hidden fury. "Why do you laugh?"

"I will not be fooled by such empty flattery."

Another expression was working its way onto his face. Another smile, full of cunning and satisfaction. "Few find this place," he began, "and fewer notice me, but only one or two I grace with my presence. But you are the first to have treated me as such," he regarded me with a strange look in his eyes, "Intriguing."

"I have come across such talk in my short time." I replied, "In many different forms. People always want something from you, but some are unsure how to get it. Flattery, or force. It explains quite a bit, really. The way he treated me before, the way he treats me now." I shook my head, "Sometimes I wish what we once did, but I now understand that it was all a lie. For him anyways. He was my friend, and he already knew that force would not work on me. But now everything's changed. And he's forgotten." I sighed, turning away. I didn't see the brief flash of grief in his eyes, and if I had, I would have known that it was not for me. "But the worst is that I will always come, crawling back to him, no matter how he beats me or pushes me away. I'm no better than a misused hound, hopelessly loyal to its unkind master." My hands clench into fists. The scabs over the mark crack, and fresh blood slithers down my hands, the black sign burn brighter. "Disgusting." Drips onto the floor.

I heard him shift, inside the painting. I looked up, and his gleaming eyes met my face. "I know you now. You are the girl who disappeared, so many years ago. So long ago…I had almost forgotten the rumors." He looked away, gaze turned in on itself, lost in memory. "So many years… They tell you that everything works out in the end, but it never does. Not really. Or at least, not in the way you expect. The ending is always twisted, deformed and sick. You'll be separated, left alone. Always alone." He stared down at his hands. "All you can do is keep going and try to survive. Achieve your goals. Rise to power. Gain more than anyone, and succeed where other fail. Believe me, I know. I know." He was lost again, eyes dark with bitter memories.

Silence. I could hear the wind howl and the sharp tap of rain on the rooftops. My thoughts wandered to the snake, tucked beneath my robes. A beautiful creature, inspired dear is so many, but only a few truly understood the creature. Like Tom. Like me.

Abruptly, I stood. There was a fire raging through me, hotter than any dragon's flame. It filled me with determination, and fury. "Thank you for your time. I shall return."

As I strode away, I heard him call out, his voice echoing down the silent halls of the castle, "Gellert Grindelwald, at your service, my lady!"


End file.
